Rusty Beck - Marriage Broker
by Miss Shannon
Summary: Rusty decides to play matchmaker which might or might not lead to chaos and mayhem. (Raydor/Flynn)
1. Chapter 1

**Rusty Beck – Marriage Broker**

**A/N: **I was actually planning on finishing my other stories before starting a new one, but then Mary McDonnell obsession set in and I really needed a Major Crimes story in my life. This is just such a great fandom! A shout-out to everyone who is posting on tumblr. I've been reading through the "Sharon Raydor" tag and I loved it to pieces! Also, I was kind of inspired by Sharon_Raydor's tweets which I also find hilarious.

**Summary: **Rusty decides to play matchmaker which might or might not lead to chaos and mayhem. (Raydor/Flynn)

**1**

Rusty Beck was sitting on Sharon Raydor's couch, legal pad propped up on his bent knee, a flowery cushion tucked under his right elbow. His other foot was firmly planted on the ground, an opened calculus textbook balanced on his thigh. He did his very best to look occupied despite the fact that he had finished his homework ten minutes ago. Bowing his head, he turned his face slightly to the side in order to get a better view of his foster mother without making her notice that he was watching her. Sharon was at her desk, her back turned towards the ballet-paintings on the mocca-colored wall. She was reading a report, one hand holding the upper corner of the page, ready to turn it, the other one absent-mindedly playing with her hair. She was wearing a black cashmere cardigan that he suspected was her favorite along with jeans and a light-green sweater. Her glasses had slid down her nose slightly which gave her otherwise perfectly groomed appearance an air of slight disorder.

Rusty had been living with his foster mother for a few months now and had grown to not only appreciate and respect but really like her. He was not yet ready to use words like "love", but deep down he knew that he soon would be. While she was tough as nails in her job and didn't seem to care whether people liked her or not, she was an intuitive, thoughtful and overall impeccable mother. As she had promised, she had never made unnecessary demands on him but was still very strict. She raised her voice and told him off when his behaviour required her to do so and gently comforted him when he needed it. Her way of dealing with him stood in stark contrast to his largely indifferent mother who had set up few and enforced no rules at all on him. Rusty had learned enough from watching Sharon to know that with children, too much leniency usually meant neglect.

However, it wasn't only her strictness and her will for him to succeed in school and life in general that made him appreciate her. It was also the little things. He liked watching her when she stood in the kitchen in the evenings, making him lunch for the next day. She had never asked whether he wanted lunch, had never even really mentioned it. She had just taken out the bread and cheese the night before his first day at school and had made two sandwiches that she had wrapped and placed in a bag along with an apple and a granola bar. The next morning, she had silently handed it to him along with a water bottle. She never expected gratitude and always seemed pleasantly surprised when he displayed some. She also brought home little things from the supermarket that she thought he might like. A jar of a special raspberry jam one day, ripe strawberries the other. She was very strict when it came to healthy eating and she would not be found buying fast food or candy. Sometimes, however, he found his granola bar replaced with a chocolate one. After a few times, it had dawned on him that she treated him to them whenever he was depressed or had got into trouble. It was a subtle way of comforting him and he appreciated it.

Rusty knew that she was spending a lot of money on him. The private Catholic school, the clothes she bought for him and the numerous other things he didn't have but needed. The day an iPhone had been sitting on his bed, he had finally asked her why she was doing it. She had smiled one of her practical yet sympathetic smiles, telling him that she felt more comfortable when able to reach him at all times. Upon powering the phone, he had found that she had taken the time to save the whole Major Crimes squad's numbers in there.

She cared for him and probably more so than anyone had ever cared for him before in his life. She didn't expect gratitude or even loyalty. She just did it stoically and calmly. Only when he had almost had her in tears when he had accused her of wanting to get rid of him, he had realized just how much she cared. There were pictures of her children on her desk. The girl, in her early twenties, looked a lot like her with long auburn hair and a pretty smile. The boy had darker hair and had put an arm around his mother's waist in the picture. All three of them looked happy and comfortable with each other, their bodies touching and their hands in each other. Somehow he didn't think that she was trying to do something over that she had once failed at. She got lots of texts and calls from her children and whenever one reached her, her face lit up with happiness. Sharon was a great mother and somehow she had decided to use her abilities to give him a good life.

It had taken Rusty a while to realize just how lucky he was and how much he liked her. He lowered his face even further, smiling slightly at the fact that her feet were not in expensive heels, but in comfortable slippers today. Once they had begun to relax around each other, he had noticed that she had a wicked sense of humour and sometimes displayed a certain clumsiness that he found adorable. And that was when he had come up with an idea that he was now busy plotting.

Sharon was a beautiful woman. At fifty, she looked at least a few years younger. When they went shopping together, he could see men turning around for her and checking out her slender body and perfect legs. She didn't talk a lot about her husband but when she did, he could hear from her tone of voice that she had stopped loving him a long time ago. Rusty Beck didn't see a fit reason why a woman like Sharon should not have a man in her life. Since she seemed to have everything else, he decided that he had to do something about that. Especially since there was a certain someone he knew to be a little too interested in Sharon's legs. Rusty had spent so much time in the squad's offices that he had a pretty good idea of the relationships throughout the team and it was more than obvious that Lieutenant Andy Flynn liked Sharon. His gazes were always subtle but they lingered a little too long on her calves or sometimes her neckline. Despite the fact that he felt oddly protective of Sharon, Rusty found Flynn's adoring looks both amusing and promising. He wasn't sure whether Sharon had noticed, but Flynn seemed to seek out her company more than the others did. He was always first to volunteer to sit in with an interview or seek out a suspect or witness when she decided to go herself. Also, Rusty had seen him pouring coffee for Sharon and carrying it over to her office more than once. He wasn't the only one who had noticed, though, if Provenza's scandalized expression was anything to go by.

Observant as he was, Rusty had put two and two together. Sharon was single, Flynn was single and he definitely had the hots for her. The only thing that had to be done was make Sharon realize that particular fact and get her to act upon it. Sharon was very guarded and didn't let her emotions show around her team if she could help it but Rusty was now quite adept at reading the subtle signs. She always leaned in a little more closely when talking to Flynn and she often took her glasses off when alone with him. She definitely liked him, too.

Sharon finished reading the report, signed off on it and placed her fountain pen aside, stretching her legs under the table.

"Have you finished your homework?" she inquired.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied in a fake military voice.

Sharon smiled and got up. "Yes, me, too. Would you like some tea and a movie? I could really use a distraction."

She walked over towards the stove and put the kettle on.

"What movie?" Rusty asked cautiously. "I will not watch another one of those black and white ones with you. And I have also seen enough of Woody Allen for the rest of my life. The guy's a creep."

Sharon clicked her tongue and took a packet of pretty healthy-looking cookies out of the pantry.

"If you want to, you can choose this time."

Rusty grinned. "Really? No more cinematic education?"

Sharon poured hot water into the simple white teapot that went with her oddly shaped teacups and raised her eyebrows at him. "I'll give you a break but next month we're going to the opera. You will wear your suit, I will wear my new dress and you will behave like the good boy you are and sit through it."

Rusty wasn't particularly interested in opera, but he was ready to go with Sharon to humor her. Also, he kind of liked the idea of wearing his suit again and make people think that he was Sharon's upper class son who had never lived on the streets or done unspeakable things for a living. He liked pretending that he was hers and had always been but he would never tell her that.

"I will be on my best behavior, Sharon. But before that happens, you will have to watch 'The Grudge 2' with me. I downloaded it on the iTunes last night and it is supposed to be super-scary."

Sharon carried a tray over to the couch and sat next to him. She brought the cup to her lips and blew the steam away, looking at him over the rim of her glasses.

"Bring it on," she said in the steely voice she used at work or when he had screwed-up badly.

"Are you sure you won't be scared?" he teased.

"Please, honey, I work crime scenes for a living," she said confidently.

An hour later, Sharon squealed with shock when a black-haired little girl crept along a wall and turned her scary-looking face at the woman on the screen. She had wrapped herself in a blanket and was hugging one of her pillows tightly to her chest. Captain Sharon Raydor seemed to be scared of horror movies, after all, Rusty thought with merriment. When the movie was over, Sharon pouted.

"I don't think I will be able to sleep now," she admitted.

"Maybe we can watch a funny youtube video to make you feel better?" Rusty offered, reaching for his laptop, but she waved him aside.

"Oh no, not another one," she said and rose, clearing the table. "I will have to be in early tomorrow morning. I think I'll just go to bed."

Rusty got up, too, and helped her put the dishes into the dishwasher. He felt a little guilty to have scared her but it also gave him an idea.

"Say, Sharon," he said cautiously. "didn't you promise me to do something fun next weekend?"

She looked up from where she was closing the dishwasher and he could see a flash of suspiciousness in her eyes, warning him to sound a little less eager. She always noticed very quickly when something was up. No need to alert her to the fact that he was trying to manipulate her into something. She straightened up and pulled her cardigan more tightly around herself.

"Indeed I have. Do you have a suggestion? The museum maybe? Or some shopping?" A smile was twitching at her lips so he could see that she did not really expect him to suggest any of those things.

"I was actually going to suggest a museum," Rusty told her, earning a surprised jerk of the head.

"Really?" she asked, flipping her long hair back behind her shoulder. "Which one?"

"Don't get too worked up about this. It is not an art gallery. It is kind of a… well, an entertainment museum, really. Can I just surprise you, Sharon? Please?"

Sharon narrowed her eyes then finally shrugged. "I like the fact that you are showing some initiative, Rusty. I have heard of too many kids sitting at home, playing video games all day long on weekends as opposed to taking their old mothers out for something fun to do."

They exchanged a shocked look which suddenly made Sharon unduly interested in a loose threat in her sleeve. "Foster mothers…" she murmured unconvincingly.

Rusty couldn't help but smile at her embarrassment and picked his calculus book up from the couch. "So that's settled, then. Saturday after breakfast, we'll head off."

Sharon flicked off the kitchen lights and followed him into the hallway.

"Yes, sir," she said. "Sleep well."

She hesitated, then touched his shoulder very lightly. "It will be nice. Just the two of us for a change."

He returned her smile and paused, waiting until she closed her bedroom door behind herself before he allowed himself a self-complacent grin. As much as he enjoyed their rare quality time together, it would not just be the two of them. He would make very sure of that. With a new spring in his step, Rusty walked into his own bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Oh my, so many reviews! Thank you so much! They make me so happy! Also, they totally encouraged me to finish the second chapter quickly, so here it is already. (Thank god for uneventful Sundays...) I hope you enjoy it as much as the first.

**2**

"Entertainment museum," Sharon stated in a tone of voice that was dripping with pure and simple, undisguised sarcasm. She turned around to face Rusty, displaying an exaggerated amount of menace when she raised both eyebrows at him. When he grinned at her, amused at her reaction, she put a foot forward and tapped it lightly on the ground, indicating that she expected an explanation. Rusty looked at her well-worn brown leather boots then up at her blue jeans and tight dark-green jacket that covered a white blouse. She looked pretty good and also slightly smaller than usual since her boots had no heels to speak of. He smiled disarmingly when his gaze reached her face.

"Did I mention that you look extremely attractive today, Sharon?" he asked and she smirked at the obvious ploy to get into her good graces. Flicking her hair back, she shrugged.

"You could have just told me that you wanted to go to a Haunted House," she informed him calmly.

"Yes, but I would have missed the flabbergasted look on your face!" he replied, about to launch into fits of laughter.

"I am glad that my surprised state serves to amuse you. Now do we go in or what?"

They walked towards the large, slightly weather-beaten house that stood alone at the edge of a forest and looked gloomy at best. A large wooden sign that had been carelessly hammered to a fence post read "Haunted House – Museum of Modern Horror". Except for moth-eaten curtains that were visible through the dirty windows, the house looked rather ordinary though not exactly lived in. The garden had been reduced to yellowed, trampled grass and a few unattractive shrubs.

"So, how is this house haunted? Is there a serial killer living here? Or is the name a metaphor for the ghosts of neglect?" Sharon asked, sounding a little snippy.

"Let's see," Rusty said mysteriously, looking around for other visitors. There was a couple of college students who were too busy making out to enter the house just yet and a group of teenage girls who had just exited it, giggling uncontrollably. Then finally, just next to the ticket booth, he found whom he was looking for. "Come on. We need tickets," he told Sharon and made a beeline for the booth. Sharon followed him, rolling her eyes despite her amusement. This was so typical of Rusty! Luring her into a sense of accomplishment due to the fact that he wanted to take her to a museum and then this! She smiled anyway. As long as they could spend time together and he was having innocent fun, she didn't really mind. However, she was a bit nervous as to the creatures awaiting her inside. A crime scene didn't bother her. She was even used to the stench of blood by now, but easy scares got her every time. She stopped dead in her tracks when they reached the ticket booth, staring not at the creepy-looking gray-faced guy inside it, but at the two men that were standing beside it.

"Lieutenant Flynn! Lieutenant Provenza!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

The two men looked from her to Rusty with equally astounded expressions on their faces. Provenza grumbled something about never being able to get a rest while Flynn gave them a friendly grin.

"Provenza won tickets," he explained. "they came with the subscription of one of his baseball magazines."

"It said on the tickets that they were only valid this morning. Stupid, eh? As if I didn't have anything else to do," Provenza sulked.

"Lighten up," Flynn hit his partner's back affectionately. "you've made a big horror fan very happy. I didn't think this was your thing, though, Captain. I take it's Rusty's doing?"

Rusty shrugged and turned his palms upwards. "She promised me a fun day out and allowed me to choose the activity."

Sharon gave a halfhearted smile. "I am not convinced, yet, that this was a good idea." She cut Provenza off before he could say a word. "One wicked witch joke and I will file a disciplinary report first thing Monday morning," she only half-joked. Provenza's eyes widened slightly, then he turned back into his old grumpy self and snorted. Flynn, who didn't seem so sure whether the tension between them was an act or real, gestured towards the entrance.

"Shall we go in and find out, then?"

Before Sharon knew it, they were walking towards the house side by side. Rusty caught up to a still sulking Provenza and began to fire questions about the baseball magazine at him which left herself and Flynn to walk up the cobblestone path together. Flynn leaned in slightly and she caught a whiff of his cologne. It felt fresh yet spicy and reminded her of a warm autumn evening.

"Looks like things are going well with Rusty," he said conspiratorially to which she couldn't help but smile despite her moment of indiscretion.

"Yes," she replied, her voice lowered, too. "I am glad that he shows some interest in the world around him. Even if it's something like this." She gestured towards the wooden door that seemed to be hanging slightly ajar.

"Are you scared, Captain?" Flynn asked, the smile deepening the lines around his eyes. She was about to shoot back and assure him that horror didn't frighten her, when she was reminded of the evening she had spent on her couch with Rusty, watching that awful little Japanese girl scaring the hell out of everyone, including herself.

"Well," she admitted. "I am a little jittery."

Sharon Raydor was not a woman who liked to display her weaknesses. For all it was worth, she liked the people around her to perceive her as all but invincible. That's why she was completely taken by surprise by the look of endearment on Flynn's face. While it annoyed her to be seen as – god forbid – a damsel in distress, she found it strangely alluring to be looked at like that. Honestly, she couldn't remember the last time it had happened.

"Well, Captain." Flynn offered his arm. "If it makes you feel any better, I scare easily, too."

She debated whether to take his arm or not for a second, then gave in to it and placed her hand on it, feeling the reassuring coolness of his leather jacket under her fingertips. Rusty gave her a lopsided grin while he held the door open for the two of them to enter.

Inside was dimly lit, a musty smell coming from the walls that held only scraps of dark green wallpaper. The ceiling was low and oppressive while heavy brown curtains kept out the little light that the unusually foggy November day brought along. The wooden floorboards creaked ominously beneath their feet and the glass lamp up on the ceiling swung lightly in a breeze that she could not feel. In front of them, Provenza bumped into an old chair and swore under his breath while Rusty chuckled quietly. They walked along the narrow corridor into the direction of three closed doors that she dared suspect didn't hold anything pleasant. She winced when an ear-shattering scream sounded from somewhere beyond the doors or maybe from upstairs which could be reached by means of a beaten-looking staircase that she had no intention of climbing because she cared for the safety of her limbs.

Flynn made no move to calm her, basically ignoring her undignified reaction and she was grateful for it. If he had begun to make a fuss over her, she might have had to tell him off and somehow she didn't feel like it. She gently let go of his arm and walked forwards, almost catching up with Rusty and Provenza.

"So, which door will it be?" she asked Rusty playfully, earning an annoyed look from Provenza who she instinctively knew was just displaying that much irritation towards her to mask the fact that he had grudgingly begun to accept and maybe not dislike her that much anymore. She gave him a quick smile and pointed towards the door in the middle.

"This one?" she asked.

They all stood in silence for a moment before Rusty shrugged and stepped forward to open the door. At first, there was only darkness. Then a light came on and blaring shrieks of maniacal laughter erupted from the room, accompanied by a blast of smoke that hit their faces. Despite the fact that Sharon had expected something startling, she took a quick step back, walking right into Flynn who looked embarrassed at their sudden physical closeness. She looked up at him apologetically and found something in his eyes that she both liked and really really disliked. Before she could give it any more thought, the door slammed shut again.

"Cheap scare," Rusty said disparagingly. "not even Sharon screamed."

Sharon gave a disapproving snort and bravely approached the left door, placing her hand on the large old-fashioned door handle. She turned around and raised one eyebrow mockingly.

"Ready, guys?"

Before they could answer, she opened the door and found herself faced with a gross-looking corpse dangling from the ceiling, a noose around its neck. From the looks of it, the body had been decomposing for a while. While the smell wasn't exactly pleasant, Sharon knew full well that reality was far, far worse than this. She turned around and smirked at the others.

"Not that scary- Uahhhhh!"

She leaped forwards, bumping into Rusty this time who was doubled over with uncontrollable laughter at the fact that the assumed corpse had reached out a hand and squeezed Sharon's shoulder when she wasn't looking. Provenza and Flynn were also unsuccessfully hiding their amusement at their superior's uncharacteristic scream. Despite the fact that she felt uncomfortable due to what had just happened, Sharon felt laughter bubbling up inside her. She could be such an idiot at times!

"Step back!" Rusty told her, still grinning. "Otherwise your lieutenants will lose all their respect for you." Sharon shook her head slightly but walked back, taking her place between Provenza and Flynn who were both towering over her due to the fact that she had chosen to wear comfortable boots instead of high heels this morning.

Rusty opened the third door and they were faced with a candle-lit room that held only a bed in which a small figure lay. At the sound of the door opening, it rose and stared at them through red eyes. The girl's skin was greenish, her hair matted and her fingernails long and yellowed. Sharon had never liked horror movies but even she recognized the possessed girl from The Exorcist.

"Close the door, Rusty, before she starts vomiting pea soup!" Flynn commanded as the girl began to move eerily towards them. Although she knew that the girl was an actress, albeit a pretty talented one, Sharon took an instinctive step back as she inched closer, murmuring words in Latin that she realized weren't making any sense. Thanks to her years at a Catholic school where she had been forced to learn Latin along the way, she was a little amused. Finally, when the girl reached out her hand to touch Rusty, he closed the door again.

"If you broke her fingers, you're grounded," Sharon informed him nonchalantly.

"Please, Sharon!" Rusty rolled his eyes. "I am not an idiot. She wasn't even that close to the door!"

Provenza, sensing an upcoming argument, steered them towards the potentially lethal staircase. "Let's get this over with, kids, so I can have my traditional Saturday noon burger at Mary's Diner and Grill."

"That sounds fantastic!" Rusty chirped. "Can we go along with them, Sharon? I am really hungry."

Sharon sighed, having forgotten just how much teenagers could put away without gaining weight or even experiencing anything remotely close to satiation.

"You just had two bowls of cornflakes and an omelet," she pointed out anyway.

"Yeah, and I won't spend any more of my precious free time with that woman," Provenza said while the first stair groaned under his weight. He grabbed the banister and climbed another step while Rusty followed eagerly. Sharon, not entirely convinced that the staircase could hold all four of them at once, folded her arms in front of her body and waited for them to ascend. Flynn was either being polite or didn't like the agonized sounds of the wood, either, because he stood next to her.

"Provenza doesn't mean it, you know," he said in a hushed voice. "I think he is actually quite okay with you right now. You know, as wicked witches go." He gave her a disarming grin that softened her reaction to a dark look over the rim of her glasses.

"Don't push your luck, Lieutenant," she said, gently reminding him of the fact that she was his superior office outside of any chance meetings at haunted houses that might or might not occur in the near future.

"Sorry, Captain," Flynn said, not sounding sorry at all. "Let's go up there and see what other horrors await."

He offered her his hand but she ignored it, feeling completely able to master a set of stairs by herself. If she fell, she would land on top of him, she thought and the idea sent an unexpected and completely unwelcome pang of arousal through her. She paused with shock and momentarily turned around to Flynn, quickly taking in a flash of his boyish grin, silver hair and brown eyes. Remaining professional in the workplace was one thing – with her mind always on cases and office politics, not to forget the law, she didn't give much thought to her colleagues' private lives. Today, however, still a little shaken by the earlier shock, she seemed to be losing her mind or at least a huge part of her sanity.

Upstairs, she felt the need to avoid his gaze and inwardly reprimanded herself for it. If she started going all bashful on him right now, he would most certainly realize that something was off. Or Provenza would. And in that case she would have to hang herself right next to the touchy hanged man downstairs.

Andy Flynn looked around the top floor of the shabby house with curiosity. He had always had a soft spot for horror movies and had seen everything from the classics to the crappy low budget ones you now found at every corner. When Provenza had found two tickets to this new Haunted House attraction just outside LA in his office mail, he had talked his friend into going. Little had he known that he would meet his boss here. He furtively gazed at her and found her nervously running a hand through her long hair. Her silver watch glistened in the harsh fluorescent overhead lights that reminded him of a rundown hospital or asylum, especially since they were flickering in irregular intervals. Up here, the walls were painted in a greyish green until waist-high from which on they were a stained white color. The floor was linoleum and the four doors sported numbers. Someone had clearly gone out of their way to make it look like a classic haunted hospital. Andy grinned at Captain Raydor who looked uncomfortable.

"Come on, you two!" Rusty called from the other end of the corridor. "We're about to open that door."

"Quit screaming, kid!" Provenza retorted. "We can all hear you very, very well."

Andy caught himself at the very last second before his hand touched Raydor's lower back to steer her towards the others. He really ought to behave around her. It was easy at work when she wore the impenetrable mask that only ever vanished when she was upset about Rusty. Here, however, with her wearing those tight jeans and sexy boots, he felt a little too light-headed to not give himself away. From the moment Sharon Raydor had first walked on to one of their crime scenes and claimed it as hers, he had begun to fall for her. At first, he hadn't noticed and had instead gladly joined in to his best friend's tirades about her. After a while, he had realized that he did so only because it gave him an excuse to talk about her. During the previous months, he had begun to really appreciate her as a person and somehow, attraction had snuck into the mix of respect, irritation and loyalty he felt towards her. By now he had come to the point where it was getting slightly difficult to be around her.

She turned towards him and for a moment he was worried that she could read his mind because her eyes narrowed. Then she gave him a little smile. "Why don't you stand next to Rusty this time? I have no intention of making a fool of myself again."

"Was that an order?" he asked, still a little shaken and trying to mask it by joking.

She ignored his quip and took a step towards him to stand behind Provenza, folding her arms defensively to wait for whatever was going to present itself to them behind the door. Rusty opened it with the careless ease that was unique to teenagers and revealed a bathroom that was dominated by an old-fashioned bathtub on four legs that resembled claws. Inside it was a white-faced woman, eyes large and unseeing. Both of her arms were dangling on either side of the tub, blood running down her wrists and pooling on the floor. Even the familiar stench of fresh blood was present. Andy saw Raydor shudder beside herself and had to agree. The setting looked pretty convincing. Especially the eyes – how could one hold one's eyes open for such a long amount of time, Andy wondered. Did they have some kind of eye drops for actors now that enabled them to do so? And how did the gashes in the woman's wrists look so convincing? The blood dripping idly to the floor suggested a terrific props and make-up job. Suddenly he remembered the scream they had heard earlier, upon entering. It had sounded full of fear and agony, a sound that was difficult to imitate to such perfection.

He and Provenza had reached the same conclusion at the same time and both tried to leap into the room, banging their shoulders against each other in the doorway.

He could hear Raydor's calm yet authoritarian voice behind them: "Stop, gentlemen. Don't touch anything."

She was suddenly wearing her leather gloves and walked past them in her typical dignified way, crouching down beside the body. She picked up the woman's hand to look at her wrist, then pressed two of her fingers against her neck. Stunned by the discovery, she straightened up.

"Lieutenant Provenza, call the squad. Lieutenant Flynn, guard the crime scene. And Rusty: Come with me."

She walked towards her foster son and gripped his shoulder firmly. "Come on."

"She's dead? She is really dead? You guys must be joking!" Rusty's eyes had widened with which was not yet fear and dread.

"We are not," Sharon explained calmly and steered him away from the two astonished lieutenants and the body. When Rusty took only one clumsy step towards the stairs, she tightly wrapped one of her arms around his shoulders and nodded at Provenza to hurry up, her eyes widening slightly with impatience. Provenza was instantly kicked into motion while Flynn was still staring at the young woman in the tub. How on earth had that happened?

Outside, Rusty watched Sharon direct the arriving police cruisers to the crime scene, talk to the now flushed-looking employee at the ticket booth and heard her calmly instruct the few people waiting in line to keep quiet and stay put. When she was finished, she returned to Rusty's side and placed a hand on his arm.

"Are you okay, Rusty?"

He lifted his palms in a gesture of confusion. "I guess! How did you know she was really dead?"

Sharon looked at him ruefully. "Experience. Intuition. Call it what you will, but you're going home now. I am sorry that we have to cut this short but I don't want you near a crime scene."

"Crime scene?" he asked. "That looked a lot like a suicide to me."

Sharon raised her chin slightly, slowly transforming back into the slightly arrogant cop she had seemed to be when he had first met her. He knew, however, that she was steeling herself for the procedures that were about to begin and that she hadn't consciously decided to adopt this persona in front of him.

"There was no knife, Rusty," she said quietly. "If you cut your wrists and do it right, you don't have time to hide a knife, much less without staining the floor with your blood."

"Oh," Rusty said. "Right."

She gave him a sad smile and gestured towards the cruiser that was parked closest. "I talked to Detective Miller. He will drop you off at home. I don't know how long I will be, but there's some leftover dinner in the fridge."

"But, Sharon-"

"No," she said with emphasis. "don't make this difficult for me, Rusty."

For a moment, Rusty felt defeated and a bit shaken and almost turned to leave when suddenly something occurred to him. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at his foster mother who was regarding him with a worried look.

"One more thing, Sharon," he said lightly. "A question, really."

"Yes, Rusty," she replied, looking distracted. He could tell that she wasn't happy with the fact that their outing had been interrupted - and by something as gruesome as the dead woman who had possibly been murdered, no less. She, too, had probably hoped for a quiet day. Maybe she could have even been talked into having burgers with Provenza and Flynn. Because if Rusty's past had taught him anything, it was that he could tell when people were attracted to each other. And Sharon and Flynn had been almost painfully obvious.

"Well, I was just wondering. As I was there when the body was found – am I not a witness that needs to be interviewed?" He could hardly hide his grin when he saw realization dawning on her face. "So, wouldn't it be against the rules, technically, if you just sent me off like this, without having me give a statement or something?"

For a moment, she gave him a hard stare that he held until he couldn't keep his triumphant grin at bay anymore. She stepped closer to him and glared. In a very quiet and quite frightening voice she said: "You know, Rusty, if I didn't know better, I would think that you were actually my biological son."

Despite the fact the Rusty knew that she was just displaying her rather dark sense of humor again, a jolt of happiness went through him.

"So I can stay?"

She snorted and gestured towards the ticket booth. "You will stay outside with the uniforms. Talk to no one and, by all means, _be good_."

Rusty watched her retreating back, grinning. Another thing he had noticed, partly while overhearing her conversations with her children on the phone, was that her saying "be good" usually meant something along the lines of "I love you". He felt very sorry for the girl in the tub and also a bit horrified by the fact that a murder had likely occurred on the premises he was now standing on. Still, he could not help but feel some excitement bubbling up inside him at the thought that, for once, he was where the action was instead of having to stay back at the condo or the office. After all, he felt like a sort of mascot to the Major Crimes team by now. And maybe, just maybe, he could somehow set the next part of his plan in motion.

Sending Provenza those tickets had panned out perfectly so far, anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

Raydor, Flynn and Provenza stood in the hallway, watching the crime scene personnel go about their gruesome tasks with quiet efficiency. The bathroom was too small too accommodate any more people than absolutely necessary and even now the white-scrubbed members of the forensic team occasionally bumped into each other, murmuring hushed words of apology. Raydor had instructed Provenza and Flynn not to directly interfere with the investigation for now, as all three of them were technically witnesses which had earned her a stressed groan from Provenza, followed by a small tirade about her obsession with the rules. Flynn could see that she didn't mind Provenza's open hostility much any more, but he still wished he would stop it already. There wasn't much for them to do as Tao, Sykes and Sanchez were downstairs interviewing the actors and the man in the ticket booth and Buzz was unsuccessfully trying not to be in the way while he was taking some additional shots of the crime scene being processed.

Raydor's phone buzzed and she took it out of her jacket pocket to look at the screen. Flynn, who stood next to her, caught the caller's ID which was "Laura Raydor". He smirked at the little heart behind the name and Sharon squinted with embarrassment. "My daughter. She saved her new number into my phone and added that heart," she explained quickly. "I have got to take this. Maybe it's urgent." She pressed the answer button and answered with a low "yes", already walking towards the other end of the corridor for some privacy.

Provenza huffed, puffing his chest out which resulted in his belly pushing forward and him rolling on the heels of his feet, almost losing balance. "So that's Mommy Raydor, huh? Kind of scary to think that there was a guy who had the nerve to get close enough to her to knock her up."

Flynn rolled his eyes. "Your pesky little comments used to be funny when she was still the one investigating us and annoying the hell out of Chief Johnson all day long. Now she's one of us. Stop hating on her, will you?"

Provenza looked up at his friend from under his bushy white eyebrows. "I am not hating on her, Andy, I am just giving her a bit of a hard time. God knows she deserves it."

Flynn folded his arms in front of his chest. "And why is that? Even you should have realized by now that she didn't steal the job from you willingly."

Provenza waved his comment away. "Please! It's not about that lousy job!"

Flynn furrowed his brow, slightly taken aback by his friend's reaction. He had expected him to state an example by begrudging her forever and a day in order to show the LAPD that they couldn't just take a promotion away from the illustrious Louis Provenza. Instead, Provenza adopted a sly grin that held no small amount of pity.

"She's got you by the balls, Flynnie, that's why. No woman should hold enough power over my best friend to make him a puddle of goo on the floor whenever she looks at him."

Shocked, Flynn dropped his arms. "Are you serious?" he gasped, anger beginning to boil inside him. "Puddle of goo! Bullshit!"

"Don't you bullshit me!" Provenza thundered, causing one of the crime scene technicians to look up from where he was collecting a sample and stare at them. Provenza waved him off and pulled Flynn aside by his shoulder. "The others might not have noticed but I am not an idiot, Andy, and you are my best friend. Keep it together, for god's sake. She might have a nice set of legs and awe-inspiring hair but she is your superior and she is, well…" He waved his hand in the air with a definite air of helplessness, then finished weakly. "…she's Raydor. That's who she is."

Flynn felt defeated and hugely uncomfortable as he had believed himself to be extremely subtle when it came to Captain Raydor.

"You're wrong here, buddy," he tried one last time. "I don't-"

"Don't insult my intelligence. You have the hots for her and I can see it."

Their heated conversation was interrupted by the sound of Raydor's low-heeled boots squeaking slightly on the well-worn linoleum as she approached them, a rueful smile on her lips.

"Anything important, Captain?" Provenza called out to her, hands in his pockets, a picture of calm and peace, completely defying the agitation he had just displayed and stirred up in Flynn. Raydor stood next to them and threw a cursory glance at the bathroom.

"No, no. Everything's fine." She allowed herself a proud smile. "My daughter was just calling to tell me about a top grade on a term paper she received. It goes a long way towards her goal to enter law school after college."

"The law, of course." Provenza clicked his tongue. "Like mother, like daughter, eh?"

Raydor ignored him, addressing the crime scene team instead. "Keep me posted. I am taking Lieutenant Provenza here out for a breath of fresh air to calm him down." She directed a steely gaze at Provenza. "Come on, now."

"See what I mean?" Provenza mouthed at Flynn upon following Raydor out. His friend, who had nothing better to do, decided to tag along. Following the others down the stairs, he mulled over what Provenza had said. The accusation had been unmistakable in his voice, but that wasn't what worried Flynn – after all, he had never expected Provenza to celebrate the fact that his best friend liked the woman he detested or at least couldn't admit he grudgingly accepted and maybe was on the verge of developing a soft spot for. What bothered him was the fact that he was being so obvious in his affections for Sharon. Despite the fact that he sometimes got caught up in the most absurd of shenanigans (i.e. corpses in garages or dog-eaten evidence) with Provenza, he loved his job and he prided himself in being a professional. He did not want anything to get in the way of that professionalism. Least of all his private life or the one a part of him had developed unrequestedly. He resolved to talk to Provenza about it later and to keep himself in check from now on. If Raydor noticed, she would give him hell one way or another. He was sure of it. After all, fraternization with another officer violated her precious rules and he was sure that she would not have that.

They passed the Medical Examiner in the hall downstairs, solemnly carrying his briefcase upstairs and giving them a curt nod. Bright lights had been installed in order to chase the gloominess away and to make it easier for the crime scene technicians to search for evidence and Flynn could see that the torn wallpaper had been expertly applied to look ragged. He had to admit that this Haunted House was definitely a little gem as it had been designed with a lot of care and attention to detail. After this incident, he mused, horror fans would probably come here a lot more, morbid as many of them were. They stepped outside where a gloomy morning had turned into a bleak afternoon. Not even California could be trusted with constant good weather in November and today was one of these days when they might as well have been elsewhere.

"I want all of the employees brought into our offices," Raydor instructed them in a low voice. "we can't hold them for more than 24 hours and I suspect a flight risk as I can't really imagine that an outsider would just walk in and kill someone in a setting like that one."

"Maybe it was the ghostface killer," Rusty chirped, having approached them, unnoticed.

"Ghost what?" Raydor asked, short-tempered.

"You've never seen Scream? The fourth one just came out," Rusty said, gazing towards the house. Sharon didn't grace his comment with an answer, but turned to Tao instead, who was walking towards them, sunglasses shading his eyes from the basically non-existent sunlight.

"Do you have any background on this establishment?" she asked him in a clipped voice that clearly gave her elevated stress levels away. Usually well-prepared, always confident Tao took off his sunglasses to reveal a sheepish look.

"Sorry, Captain. It took us a while to get everyone's information as there were three of us missing from action-"

"We did not choose to find a body, Tao!" Provenza drawled, irritated. "As far as I am concerned, we shouldn't have gone upstairs in the first place. Right now, I could be at good old Mary's, checking out her lovely hips in that apron and enjoy a cheeseburger of epic-"

Raydor gave him a death glare that silenced him immediately. "Never mind, Lieutenant Tao. You are doing a great job here," she said soothingly, a bit sorry for being short-tempered with him earlier. It just bugged her that she could not get a single day off in this job. Especially one that she desperately needed to be away from her squad, or rather, certain members of her squad. She wasn't sure whether she would be able to resist giving Provenza a tongue-lashing sooner or later and Flynn still made her a bit uneasy because she felt ashamed of the flash of a fantasy that had hit her earlier. The three of them combined just seemed to be a bit much of a cluster of lack of professionalism right now.

"I know stuff about the Haunted House," Rusty said and they turned towards him, eyebrows raised.

"You do?" Sharon asked cautiously, initially expecting a joke when she found the iPhone readily nestled into Rusty's palm.

"Yeah, you know, as I didn't have a lot to do out here, I did a bit of research," Rusty explained, unsuccessfully trying to hide his excitement at being part of the team. That observation was the only thing that kept Sharon from putting the kid on to the next ride home immediately. After all, she was responsible for him. He was a foster kid who had endured a lot in his short life and hanging out at crime scenes and thinking about murder was not usually beneficial to children of his background – or to children at all. The slight flush in his cheeks at the team's expectant looks, however, softened her.

"Let's hear it, Rusty," she said and placed her hands in her pockets, pressing her knuckles against her stomach to keep it from rumbling. While Rusty had gorged himself this morning, she had only had some yoghurt and fruit as firstly, she had to watch her figure and secondly, she had expected to end up at some diner for lunch where even chicken salads tended to contain more grease than she liked to eat in a month.

"Well," Rusty consulted his phone but she could tell that he knew the facts by heart. "Apparently this house was built in 2008 and the owners lost it when the real estate bubble burst. You know, when the financial crisis started." Sharon nodded in understanding and refrained from remarking sarcastically on having sufficiently followed the news on politics and economy. Even Provenza kept quiet and her earlier urge to strangle him seemed suddenly misplaced. "It was then bought cheaply by the current owner, a Mr Craig Sullivan, who used to be a horror movie producer before he sold his company to try something new. That was in 2010. They had the house transformed into a Haunted House attraction through 2011 and officially opened in January 2012. It is quite an attractive workplace for overlooked young actors since Mr Sullivan still has lots of ties into the movie business, so he can handpick the people he employs. So far, business has been a little slow which is probably due to the rather remote location."

Sharon swallowed another comment as, indeed, the drive from her condo had been a long one.

"I think I've heard of Sullivan," Flynn said pensively. "Didn't he produce-"

"Hospital of Evil, Autopsy from Hell and – last but not least – The Zombie on Sorority Row, yes," Rusty finished for him, now reading from the screen.

"That's the kind of movies you watch?" Tao asked, incredulous, to which Flynn shrugged. "The Zombie on Sorority Row wasn't half bad, though I have to admit the title's a bit tacky."

"Thank you, Rusty." Sharon gave him an appreciative smile. "That was indeed quite helpful. Lieutenant Tao, find me that Mr Sullivan. Lieutenant Provenza, check on the progress in there. And Lieutenant Flynn, please round up the employees and make sure they are taken to our offices. I am going to drive ahead with Rusty and meet you there."

The men took off to fulfil their respective tasks which left Sharon and Rusty by themselves. "You can give your official statement back at headquarters," she told him. "Are you still hungry? We can grab something on our way."

Rusty grinned. "Can we go to Mary's? I'd really like to see her lovely hips in that apron."

Sharon gave him a gentle pat on the back. "Watch yourself, young man, our you are going home faster than you can say 'sexual harassment'."

Back on the road, Rusty decided that phase 2 of his plan was in order. As he had had to resort to plan B due to the unforeseen circumstances, he fully intended to ruffle her feathers a bit and find out just how aware she was of her attraction to Lieutenant Flynn. Taking into account that it was Sharon Raydor he was dealing with, he guessed that she was still in firm denial. She was very perceptive to the people around her but he suspected that she sometimes wasn't quite aware of her own sentiments. Often, she seemed to act purely on instincts. Instincts, that had always served her well, like her criminalistic or her maternal instincts. In other areas, however, her brain seemed to have gained control over any emotions there might be.

"Lieutenant Flynn seems to be into horror movies," Rusty said leisurely, watching her reaction from the corner of his eyes. The only thing that gave her tension away was her right hand that grabbed the steering wheel a little harder for the shortest of moments.

"Seems that way," she replied evenly, her gaze on the road.

"He's a cool guy," Rusty added, pretending to study his fingernails. "I like his sense of humor."

"I read up on some old cases," Sharon told him. "he and Lieutenant Provenza seem to have an unfortunate knack for getting themselves caught up in impossible situations. I wonder when I will have to deal with the aftermath of one of those."

Rusty snorted. "Why are you reading up on old cases? Are you bored? Would you like me to give you a crime novel for your birthday?"

She took her eyes off the road for the shortest of moments and smirked at him. "No thanks. I just wanted to know a little more about the team members' backgrounds. That was back when I was still investigating them."

"Nice," Rusty said. "they must have all loved you for that."

She raised her eyebrows. "Hear, hear," she said, but left it at that. From what Rusty had overheard in the office on numerous occasions, Sharon Raydor had been a force to be reckoned with when she had still been working in Internal Affairs. Not to say that she wasn't now, but she seemed to have settled into her team nicely, having shed the skin of the adversary swiftly to become one of them. Somehow, Rusty could even relate to Provenza. He knew how unaccommodating Sharon could be if someone had screwed up. He didn't want to imagine what she was like when a cop shot a civilian and she felt that it could have been avoided. Somehow he knew that she was quite happy not to always have to butt heads with everyone all the time now.

"Anyway, you and Lieutenant Flynn seemed cozy. Do you like him?"

He knew it was a bold move and he had to muster an almost impossible amount of self-control not to burst into laughter at her reaction. It wasn't often that Sharon's self-assured mask slipped for a moment, but he, Rusty Beck, had just caused one of those moments. Her eyes widened.

"Cozy?" she gasped. "What on earth do you mean by cozy?"

She seemed to catch herself pretty quickly because her usual slightly condescending stare was soon firmly back in place. Before he could answer, she shook her head. "Think about what you want for lunch, Rusty, instead of dwelling on the fancies in your head."

"A burger would be nice."

The surprised look she gave him told Rusty that she had not expected him to drop the topic so quickly.

"Okay," she said lightly. "but you may not eat inside my car."

Denial, Rusty concluded, unsurprised by his findings. Complete and absolute denial.

* * *

It took Andy Flynn all but two seconds from looks alone, to conclude that Sullivan was a first class sleazeball. As he sat, slouched in the uncomfortable plastic chair in the interview room, his ugly tie lay on top of table where his short stubby fingers played idly with it. The pompous rings on two of the fingers looked swanky at best but fit right in with his slightly too tight dark-green suit jacket, black jeans and impossible mustache.

"Well, that's a charming-looking fellow," Raydor said, bending over the table to get a better look at the monitors. He wondered whether she was aware of the fact that her glasses were currently located in her blazer's breast pocket and not on her nose. "Detective Sanchez, somehow I suspect that this one will respond better to a male interviewer. Get in there and bring him a cup of coffee to make him feel safe. And you Detective Sykes, could you check on the girls, please? The exorcist girl looked a little shaken. I want her well taken care of." The two detectives shuffled off, leaving Raydor alone with Flynn and Buzz.

"Twizzlers?" Buzz offered but they both declined.

"Something hot and caffeinated in a cup would be great, anyway," Raydor said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Flynn watched her realize that she didn't have her glasses on and pat her pockets for them. Their eyes met and she grinned slightly when he motioned towards her breast pocket.

"Thanks," she mouthed.

"Milk, no sugar, right?" Buzz asked wearily. "One for you, too, Andy?"

"Yes, please."

Buzz walked out, leaving the two of them alone. Sharon adjusted the glasses on her face and took a seat next to Flynn. She hadn't been thinking about her situation with him when she had given the orders and was now actually a little surprised to find herself all alone with him. He grinned and pointed at the screen.

"Wicked pornstache, right?"

She chuckled and reached for the packet of twizzlers anyway, pulling one out and biting off a piece. "You know, they say these are low-calorie but I bet that's bullshit," she said, munching. "Don't tell Rusty I did this. I have been firmly standing my ground when it comes to the purchase of candy. That poor kid needs vitamins, not grease and sugar."

"Yet is in the break-room, wolfing down cheeseburgers with Provenza," Flynn pointed out.

She shrugged. "He unwittingly walked on to another crime scene today. I thought he deserved a little break."

Flynn nodded solemnly, helping himself to his own twizzler, unwilling to strike up a conversation with her as not to be too obvious again. Sitting so close to her, he realized that she smelled very faintly of vanilla, the stronger scent of perfume notably absent. His gaze lingered at her collarbone before he ran a nervous hand through his hair and indulged in another piece of candy, hoping that the sugar rush would take care of the upheaval inside him. There was a moment of silence before Raydor turned towards him with a conspiratorial grin.

"So horror movies, uh? I watched my first horror movie in a long time last week with Rusty and I didn't sleep very well that night."

Flynn imagined her in her bed, scared, and chuckled. "It's not as if I didn't watch anything else. I just have a big and versatile collection of movies."

"Really? What kinds?"

"Oh, a little bit of everything."

"Do you have a favorite movie?" she asked.

"Not really. There are so many good ones. Anyway, I enjoyed Midnight in Paris a lot."

Her face lit up and he didn't need to ask whether she had seen it, too.

"Do you like the idea of travelling back in time to meet dead poets and writers at night?" she asked, her chin popped up on her hand, a smile giving her face a completely different expression than usual.

"That and the message they convey. Wherever you are, you always long for something different. The unknown seems to hold a certain allure that everyone falls for."

Her smile had widened. "I like that," she said. "Do you long for something different, Lieutenant Flynn?"

For a moment he wondered whether she was hinting at something or whether she was even flirting with him, but then he saw the innocent look in her eyes. She hadn't realized, yet, that her question could be understood in more than just one way. Sharon Raydor, oblivious to a double-meaning. He might have found that adorable if that adjective hadn't been at such incredible odds with the woman in front of him. And yet...

"You know, right now I think I am right where I want to be."

He saw a glimmer of slight confusion in her eyes and suddenly wished he could just reach over, cup her cheek and kiss her. He imagined her lips to be soft and her skin smooth and warm and he felt his hand lift from where he had placed it onto the table. Then a sound came from the loudspeakers. Sanchez had entered the interview room and was handing Sullivan a steaming cup of coffee. When Flynn looked back at Raydor, she had straightened up and was staring intently at the screen. He wasn't sure whether he was imagining it but he thought he saw the slightest flush in her cheeks.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

Provenza lifted his half-eaten burger up with both hands and took a large bite out of it, thereby causing a thick drop of sauce to drop on to the table. Still chewing, he swore under his breath and unsuccessfully dabbed at the stain with a paper-towel. Rusty, who had already finished his own burger, helped himself to one of Provenza's leftover fries and popped it into his mouth, thinking. The Lieutenant apparently misinterpreted Rusty's facial expression and adopted a sympathetic smile.

"You okay, boy?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes, sure." Rusty shrugged. "That girl's death was awful but it's also kind of awesome to be able to hang out with all of you. Be a part of the team. Kind of."

Provenza nodded. "That's some nice little background info that you found on that house. Well done."

Rusty grinned and watched the older man finish his burger and ball the paper-towels up, dropping them on top of his plastic plate. He knew that Provenza was smart and perceptive, even if his demeanour often suggested otherwise. If he wanted to find out more about Andy Flynn's thoughts on Sharon, he knew he couldn't simply grill the white-haired lieutenant for information. Subtlety was key here and while he was at it, he might as well kill two birds with one stone. He grabbed his can of coke and sipped it, pretending to be pensive. After a while of staring into space, he could see that Provenza was getting impatient as he was narrowing his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked in his usual, slightly irritated tone.

"Oh, you know. I don't know whether I should be asking you this…" Rusty said, adopting an innocent look that caused Provenza to fold his arms in front of his chest and raise an eyebrow expectantly. Rusty pretended to hurry. "Well, it's just that I am wondering why you're giving Sharon such a hard time. From what I can tell she's doing a great job with the team."

Provenza's plastic chair creaked when he leaned back in it, arms still folded and brow furrowed. For once, he didn't look entirely comfortable and also slightly less grumpy than usual.

"Being protective, are we?" Provenza grumbled and if Rusty hadn't known better, he might have thought he detected the faintest trace of emotion in his voice.

"I just found that you were being a little hard on her today. That's all," he said evasively. "I mean, the others like her, too. Lieutenant Flynn certainly wasn't as displeased as you were when we ran into you today."

For a moment Rusty worried that he had overdone it, but then Provenza snorted with displeasure. "Of course he wasn't!"

Rusty feigned confusion. "Of course?"

Finally, realization dawned on the other man's face and he pursed his lips, rising from his seat.

"You're one smart kid. I give you that," he told him. "but don't you think you can manipulate me."

Despite the fact that he had just failed at his task, Rusty grinned and rose, too, collected his garbage and carried it to the bin in the corner where Provenza was just disposing of his own lunch's remains. There was a slightly awkward silence while they were walking towards the door. Rusty reached for the knob but was stopped by Provenza's paw that rested heavily on his arm.

"Careful with that one, young man. Sometimes the bolts come loose and if you handle the knob too roughly, it comes off and you're trapped in here. It can take a while before someone finds you. Especially on a Saturday."

His face didn't give anything away when he pointed at the bolts in question and gently turned the knob. "Just one of the secrets you need to know around here," he said pointedly. Rusty smirked behind his back, fully aware of the fact that he had just gained an unlikely accomplice.

* * *

Craig Sullivan had a constantly bored, nasal voice and the annoying habit to wipe strands of his dirty-blonde hair away from his forehead every few seconds. He answered Sanchez's questions slowly and narrowed his eyes as if he had to ponder his answers thoroughly before giving them. Sanchez took his time establishing the background information Rusty had pulled off the internet earlier and then asked about the man's alibi. Apparently, he had been home with his girlfriend at the time of the murder, having "intimate relations", as he put it. Sharon signalled for Provenza to go and confirm it with the wife who was waiting outside the interview room then turned to Flynn.

"So far it's all been conclusive. Can you think of a motive?" she lowered her voice when talking to him and he liked the intimacy it provided despite the fact that they were no longer alone but in the presence of a twizzler-munching Buzz and a bored-looking Rusty who was busy checking his cell phone. Her hands were restlessly toying with a ballpoint-pen and he could tell that she would rather be anywhere but in the interview room at that very moment. Her state of mind rarely showed so clearly and he wondered whether she was even aware of it.

"He's just confirmed that business is slow. Maybe he thought a murder on the premises might attract attention. Probably hired somebody to do it."

Sharon lifted her gaze from the screen and furrowed her brow. "Really?" She thought on it for a second and nodded, raising both of her eyebrows in approval. "Good thinking, Lieutenant. Would you like to do the honors?" She gestured towards the microphone and Flynn leaned forward, his shoulder brushing hers. He had to admit he was a little stung when she quickly moved out of his way.

"Ask him about his financial situation once more. I'd like to know how things are really going with that Haunted House," he told Sanchez who nodded almost imperceptibly and immediately changed his line of questioning. Sullivan shrugged in reaction to his question, turning his palms upwards.

"Business is okay, really. Summer was a little better than it is now and, anyhow, I am quite well off financially." He gave a self-indulgent chuckle that indicated that he had just made a serious understatement. The rolex on his left arm clicked on the tabletop and Andy was quite sure that he had intended it to in order to make Sanchez aware of it.

"I need some background research on that, Lieutenant Flynn," Raydor said, not looking at him. "Tell Lieutenant Tao to check it out, will you?"

Before Flynn could say anything, Rusty jumped off his chair and gave Raydor a mock salute.

"I'll do it. I like watching Tao work, anyway. Also, Sharon, I bought you some salad at the diner. Make sure she eats it, Lieutenant Flynn!" With that said, he stepped out and left behind a chuckling Buzz.

"Looks like he is taking care of you, Captain," the technician told her.

Sharon looked touched but feigned irritation. "Shouldn't I be the one looking after him?"

"He's right, though, Captain. You're the only one here who hasn't had lunch, yet. I've been hearing your stomach rumble for a while now. Why don't you go and have that salad? I'll keep you posted if anything's up," Flynn offered.

Sharon looked torn for a moment but then she got up. "Thank you, Lieutenant Flynn." She smiled warmly, but still didn't meet his eyes. "I'll be in the break room then. Don't hesitate to interrupt me, though."

* * *

Sharon shuddered when she entered the break room. Apparently, someone had been meddling with the air conditioning again. She shrugged and took the plastic cup of salad out of the refrigerator. She wasn't going to stay in here for long, anyway. The cup of salad looked surprisingly healthy and Rusty had even thought of ordering her oil and vinegar dressing on the side. Only now she realized how hungry she was. The pair of twizzlers she had allowed herself earlier didn't go a long way in satisfying the hunger that was plaguing her. Chewing on a forkful of lettuce, tomato and carrots, she had to admit to herself that physical hunger might not be the only thing that was plaguing her right now. Ever since that startling moment on the staircase, she couldn't help but think about how it would have felt to be caught by Flynn's arms or – god forbid – land on top of him at the foot of the stairs. She shifted uneasily in the plastic chair, trying to get rid of the thoughts and the feeling of hotness accompanying it. Sharon Raydor had always been pretty good at resisting temptation. She resisted the temptation to break the rules in order to use a comfortable short cut. She resisted the urge to stay in bed and catch another hour of sleep instead of getting up for her daily run. She didn't give in to the temptation to have a burger instead of a salad. The list went on and on. Sexual temptation, however, was fairly rare and therefore she was less experienced in combating it. She took a large gulp from her water bottle but the cool liquid did nothing to ease her discomfort. Why today, she wondered. Was it the leather jacket? The smell of his cologne? Or the expression on his face when she had admitted to being a little scared of the Haunted House? Maybe even his insightful comment on Midnight in Paris. She could not put her finger on it but, damn, she suddenly wanted him. Was she that easy to seduce?

Sharon was a strong woman of values and she was intent on not allowing herself to make a fool of herself. Firstly, giving in to the temptation to flirt with Andy Flynn was out of the question due to her status as his superior officer. Secondly, she didn't even know how he would react. Granted, he was courteous and friendly towards her but that didn't mean that he would react well to- Sharon slammed her water bottle down on the table with some force in order to derail her ridiculous train of thought. She hadn't slept enough last night. And maybe that second glass of white wine had given her a slight hangover that she owed these completely obnoxious thoughts to. Tonight she would have a cup of tea and an early night and by Monday her attraction to Andy Flynn would have completely and utterly vanished. Or so she hoped.

"Captain Raydor?" She closed her eyes briefly and then turned towards the door where Andy Flynn's head had appeared.

"Yes?" she said a little too sharply and she could see by the way his eyebrows twitched that he was wondering what he had done wrong in order to deserve her snappy attitude.

"We couldn't get much else from Sullivan and we so we're moving on to the Exorcist girl now. Name's Liza Dawson, by the way. Are you okay with that?" She nodded and looked down at her half-eaten salad. Somehow, all her appetite had vanished at Flynn's arrival.

"Alright," she said. "I'm coming with you."

To her utter surprise, Flynn walked into the room and closed the door behind himself, then fumbled with his cuffs nervously. She looked up from where she was disposing of the remains of her lunch and frowned.

"Is there anything else, Lieutenant Flynn?" As hard as she was trying, she could not get the slightly bitchy tone out of her voice. Maybe she had to accept that it was either that or flirting. He looked up at her and gave an unassertive smile that looked out of place in his face.

"Well, yeah- please don't take this the wrong way, Captain, but is something the matter? You seem a little out of sorts."

She narrowed her eyes and slammed the garbage can shut, startling Flynn in the process. "I don't know what you mean, Lieutenant." She shoved his rank between them like an obstacle but when she saw his startled expression, she couldn't help but soften the blow. "I am just a little miffed that my outing with Rusty was interrupted by this. I feel like I am spending little enough quality time with him, anyway." At least she wasn't lying as that particular kind of guilt had been weighing on her mind for a while now.

"I'm sure Rusty understands," Flynn said softly. "I think he cares about you very much."

She tried for a clipped grin but the corners of her mouth did not obey her and broke into a wide smile instead. "Thank you, Lieutenant Flynn. Shall we go and see what Miss Dawson has to say, then?"

He bowed his head and reached out to open the door. There was a small cracking sound and he turned back around with a shocked expression that turned into a sheepish grin when he held his hand with the doorknob out to her. Sharon exhaled noisily and extended her own hand.

"Your phone? I've left mine in my handbag in the monitor room."

Flynn patted his pockets and blanched. "Damn. Mine's with Provenza. He needed to make a call and his battery ran out."

Sharon placed her hands on her hips, exasperated. "Are you trying to tell me that we have no means of communication to get us out of here?"

Flynn shrugged uneasily. "There's still the good old banging-against-the-door."

"Then do it," she ordered him, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Why did she end up locked in with him on the very day that her hormones were plotting something against her? Flynn raised his arm and hammered his fist against the door, shouting repeatedly, but nothing happened. Finally, he turned around.

"There's no one in this part of the building on a Saturday. I doubt anyone can hear us."

She turned away, then turned back and walked straight to the door, banging against it with her own fist, then winced.

"Ouch." Flynn laughed and she shot him a glare. "Not funny."

Rubbing her hand, she started to pace up and down. "How long do you think until someone remembers us?" she asked wearily.

"No idea. I told them to go ahead with the interview while I was off to get you."

"Great." Sharon lowered herself to one of the chairs and tried not to look appalled when Andy sat down opposite her. She couldn't very well force him to stand around until someone found them, after all. The awkward silence lasted until Sharon could not resist the urge to rub her arms any longer.

"You okay?" Flynn asked. "It's pretty cold, isn't it? Something must be wrong with the AC again."

Sharon rolled her eyes, annoyed by the many ways her body was betraying her today.

"It's okay," she said despite the fact that her thin blouse did nothing to warm her and her jacket was still on the back of her chair in the monitor room. Flynn seemed to ponder his actions for a moment before he placed his hands on either sides of his own jacket to offer it to her.

"Would you like my jacket?"

"Oh no, thank you," she said quickly, but her shivering betrayed her. "I am making a cup of hot tea. That might settle it." She got up hurriedly and busied her slightly shaking hands by making tea. "Would you like some, too?"

He declined and so she returned to the table with only one steaming mug, warming her hands on it. After another bout of silence, she decided that she was too old and too annoyed to do this. There was no point in sulking. She needed to be professional. Even if that meant striking up a conversation about the dreaded case they had stumbled into. She opened her mouth to ask Flynn whether he had any other suspicions on who might be the killer, when she heard herself say something entirely different: "I am cold all the time, but I am not usually offered any jackets."

He didn't seem as shocked as she was by her admission as he smiled. "People are probably scared of you."

"Or they just don't like me." She gave a sardonic smile.

Flynn opened his arms and turned his palms upwards. "Not anymore, I guess. You are now one of the good guys. No more Darth Raydor." Flynn gasped, confirming that calling her 'Darth Raydor' had been unintentional. Sharon's eyes widened.

"And I thought The Wicked Witch was the worst they could come up with," she murmured.

"Captain, I am really-"

Before he could finish his rambled apology, Sharon broke into fits of laughter. He looked surprised at first, then smiled, relieved.

"Darth Raydor!" she gasped, still giggling, a sound that he wouldn't have associated with her for the world. And yet here she was, with a definite case of the giggles that gave her eyes a sparkle that he hadn't seen before, either.

"Didn't think you'd like it," he said, now chuckling himself. Her laugh was infectious. Who would have figured?

She caught herself and shook her head, wiping a tear from her eye. "I never said I liked it. It's just funny. My kids really love Star Wars. They'll love it." She reached into her pocket for her phone and rolled her eyes. "Damn. I could have texted them about it if I had my phone with me."

She sipped her tea, her face now relaxed and her cheeks slightly flushed. He could see that she was still cold despite the hot beverage in the cup she was so firmly holding on to.

"Maybe no one offers you jackets because they think you won't take them, anyway."

She looked up from her cup and pressed her lips together. "Good point. I don't mind it, though. I don't want anyone to perceive me as weak."

She looked slightly taken aback by her own honesty and he hurried to make her feel comfortable again. He liked the side of Sharon Raydor he had just seen. That laugh, the way she covered her mouth with her hand while giggling, the glistening tear of laughter that ran down her cheek. He didn't want her to close up again and bring her cop persona back to shut him out.

"Being cold is not a weakness."

"And yet men like to think of it as one because women get cold more quickly," Sharon pointed out.

"It's just a physiological thing," he said. "Men have more muscle while women's body's contain more fat, it's just-"

Her darkened gaze told him everything he needed to know. "Oh god, Sharon. I didn't mean that to sound-"

This time she cut him off, smiling broadly. "I know, Andy! I was just kidding!" Laughing, she took another sip of her tea, then winked at him and extended her hand with a wry smile. "Can I have that jacket now?"

He shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her across the table, mercifully not insisting on putting it around her shoulder like an old cavalier. The leather creaked slightly as she put her arms into the sleeves and they both grinned when it became apparent that they were both too long and too wide for her to fit comfortably. Instead of zipping the garment, she wrapped it more tightly around her body and held it in place.

"You look like a rock star," Flynn joked and the ghost of the expression of endearment she had seen earlier appeared on his face again before it was replaced by a neutral expression. Somehow, she found his complete lack of machismo very attractive. She liked self-confident men and could tell them very clearly from the ones that were just trying to hide their own self-consciousness by trying to make women feel small and weak in their presence. Andy Flynn clearly belonged to the first kind and she liked it. A little too much, probably. His jacket smelled of leather and of his cologne and its inner lining was still warm with his body heat.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," she replied, somehow glad that she had chosen to take him up on his offer. She felt more comfortable now and she could feel her body relax despite the fact that the plastic chairs in here were not exactly built to be sat in for longer amounts of time. For a moment, they were both quiet, listening to the humming of the refrigerator and the occasional clicking of the air conditioning unit that she now felt a little more kindly towards.

"So, how old are your Star Wars-loving children?" Flynn finally asked and Sharon hated him a little for addressing a topic that she was so passionate about. One of the reasons why she didn't like to talk about her children at work was that she somewhat couldn't stop herself whenever she started talking about them. In the solitude of this room, however, she decided that it didn't matter.

"Laura is 22, James is 20," she said cautiously.

"Both at college, I take it?" Flynn seemed genuinely interested.

"Yes and both on the East Coast. I miss them."

They were both quiet, the obvious question hanging between them. Flynn was probably unsure whether to ask so she decided to answer it before he had to. "I am a little jealous of my husband as he lives close by."

She had to suppress a grin when she found Flynn fidgeting. "So… you two are separated?"

"Yes," she said and found that she was a little excited at telling him so. So it seemed that Gabriel, in turn for her not telling the others about his living with his girlfriend a while back, had also kept quiet about her personal life. It was nice to know that not everyone was a gossip. "We've been separated for twenty years now." She was tempted to add the part about it all being very catholic again, but kept quiet instead.

"So Laura and James were still very young when it happened," Flynn concluded and she mentally slapped herself for not expecting him to do the maths. Even though she had long since come to terms with everything, she still didn't like to talk about it. "Do they have a good relationship with their father?"

Flynn was obviously not afraid of asking personal questions and somehow she felt that she could trust him with her answers. "Yes, they are okay with him. He is in a better place now, you know-" She cleared her throat. Telling Flynn felt more difficult than telling Gabriel as she felt more emotional around him. Somehow, she was scared that an old wound might be ripped open at one of his tender looks and she didn't know whether she could bear it.

"Don't answer if you feel it's too personal," Flynn said quickly. "I probably shouldn't have asked." He gave her a smile that bordered on the professional and she felt the loss of intimacy like a jolt of pain.

"No, no. That's okay," she heard herself say not entirely against her will. "He used to be a drunk and a gambler, but he turned his life around. I have to admit I mostly kept him away from them when they were little, but when they grew older, they wanted to spend more time with him."

Flynn looked thoughtful for a moment and she remembered the fact that he, too, had once been an alcoholic. "Was that the reason you got separated?"

She nodded, unwilling to think back to the night when she had finally thrown her husband out after he had come home completely drunk and with an equally drunk platinum blonde in tow whom he had begun to noisily make out with on the living-room couch. Needless to say that he hadn't appreciated the sudden appearance of his sleepy, seven months pregnant wife very much. She considered telling Flynn that story for a moment, then decided against it. It should have made for a pretty funny anecdote now that she had had twenty years to get rid of her hard feelings. Especially since her husband's nightly companion had thrown up into the flowerbeds outside, all the while telling Sharon that it was rude to interrupt a make-out session. Then again, she still had trouble seeing the humor in it.

"Yes," she said. "that and some unruly behavior of his. It was very painful but it was twenty years ago. He has been sober for a while now and while I have no desire to see him, he seems to be good with the children."

She suddenly felt clumsy and vulnerable. Why had she just told him so much about her personal life? And why did she feel the urge to tell him more?

"I used to be a drunk," Andy said quietly. "I have been sober for fifteen years now and that is probably why I have managed to reconnect with my children."

"The wife?" she asked.

"Ex-wife. Still hates me." He grinned and she could not help but smile back.

She finished the last of her tea and pulled Andy's jacket more tightly around herself. "I sometimes feel bad about keeping the children away from him for so long. Not for his sake, so much, but for theirs. Children need their fathers. Maybe I should have tried harder to get him to sober up." She didn't know why she was suddenly able to so freely admit to him her biggest regret when it came to her parenting and she was a bit annoyed at herself for it.

"It was probably for the better, Sharon. You cannot force someone to get help. You were just protecting your children." Andy said with a concerned look in his eyes. She only realized how devastated she had to look when she felt unwanted tears brimming in her eyes. She quickly blinked them away but found his hand already on her fingers as they were the only part of her arm that wasn't covered by his jacket. His thumb stroked her forefinger slightly, his skin warm and dry against hers.

"Now, that was some emotional striptease," she joked awkwardly. "I didn't mean to drop my emotional baggage on you. I apologize."

She was about to withdraw her hand but the look in his eyes stopped her. "It's okay," he told her. "I actually enjoy learning more about you. Even if it's your regrets."

"Thank you," she said in an usually airy voice, caught up in his eyes. She swallowed but didn't look away, drawn in by his suddenly rather intense gaze. She could see that he was leaning in very slightly but not close enough to actually be in her space. His body language was suggestive, but not quite an open move on her. She realized that it was an invitation. If she wanted to, she could lean in and kiss him or she could withdraw and refuse him without causing either of them embarrassment. It was a very mature and unobtrusive way of coming on to her, she thought, and realized that her skin was tingling where his hand was resting over hers. Her brain screamed at her to find an excuse to get up and bring as much room between them as possible, maybe even tell him off despite the fact his behaviour was subtle enough to be easily denied. The rest of her, however, wanted nothing more than to take him up on his offer and kiss him. Sharon hadn't been celibate for the past twenty years but it had still been a long while since she had last kissed a man. Especially one that made her feel like this. She opened her lips slightly and began to lean in when they were interrupted by the harsh sound of the door. Andy withdrew his hand quickly while Sharon did his best to get rid of his jacket.

"Captain Raydor?" Sykes was standing in the doorway, running a nervous hand over her head, completely oblivious to what she had just interrupted. "Is it that damn doorknob again? Provenza told the janitor to repair it last week but apparently that didn't work out. I am sorry you got stuck in here."

"That is…" Sharon had to clear her throat. "that is alright. Lieutenant Flynn and I had some time to discuss strategy." She shot a fleeting gaze at Flynn who quickly nodded.

"Yeah. We think we should…" he looked back at Sharon for help.

"…we should really follow up on the… um, the thing with the…"

"The financial situation. We should check out whether Sullivan had motive to have someone killed there in order to attract more visitors."

"Good thinking," Sykes said, smiling. "I was actually coming to get you, Captain Raydor. Liza Dawson completely broke down when Sanchez interviewed her. She is sobbing right now and we thought she could use a calming presence like yourself."

Sharon doubted that she was anywhere near being a calming presence right now but she nodded.

"Alright, Detective Sykes. Thank you."

She almost bumped into Flynn when they both made an attempt to follow Sykes into the corridor. Flynn stopped and gestured towards the door. "After you." She looked at the faint stubble on his jaw and mentally congratulated herself on not moving in on him because if she had done so, Sykes would have been greeted by Captain Sharon Raydor, mindlessly kissing Lieutenant Andy Flynn. Also, she completely hated herself for letting the opportunity go to waste.


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

Liza Dawson – eternally dubbed "The Exorcist Girl" by the squad – was still in full costume and make-up. Although she had removed the red contact lenses and fake gruesome fingernails, her complexion still looked greenish, tears having smudged the make up in places which resulted in her looking even more obscure. She was wearing a battered jeans blazer over a dirty nightgown and the sneakers on her feet looked as out of place as the scrunchy she had used to tame her matted hair with. She was still sobbing, a lit cigarette trembling in her right hand from which she took desperate drags in regular intervals.

"This is a non-smoking building," Sharon said softly but remained adamant at the same time, holding out an empty plastic cup. Her breath hitching, the girl hesitantly stubbed out the cigarette and then dropped her head into her hands, sobbing even more loudly. Sharon reached out a comforting hand and placed it on the girls arm who flinched at the touch.

"Were you friends with-"

"Anna Miles," Flynn's voice said in her ear and she closed her eyes briefly. With all the stress she had been under while organizing things at the crime scene, she had forgotten the name right after the first time she'd heard it. While she was grateful for Flynn's help, she felt stung at the fact that he had not expected her to remember the victim's name. Their first confrontation back when she had been put in charge of Major Crimes came to mind. So much had happened since then.

"-Anna Miles?"

The girl looked up, her hands green from the make-up on her face. Sharon silently handed her a handkerchief and the girl began to unsuccessfully try to wipe the sticky substance off her fingers.

"Friends? She was like my BFF! We went to drama school together, shared a dorm. I can't believe she's dead." And once again, tears started flowing down her cheeks.

"I am very sorry for your loss," Sharon said softly, obediently holding the Kleenex box out to her. The girl pulled a few tissues out and blew her nose noisily. Sharon allowed herself an impatient look up into the camera lens. She had banned everyone from the interview room, insisting on dealing with the girl by herself as not to upset her any further. Especially Flynn was the last person she could use around her right now. Thinking of the way he he had enveloped her fingers with his hand still sent a shiver down her spine. She had to force herself to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Have you found the razor blade yet?" Liza asked, the now green handkerchief balled up firmly inside her fist.

"Razor blade?" Sharon asked softly.

"Or knife or whatever they used to-" The girl's eyes widened at the image her mind must have conjured up and her face twisted into a pained grimace so Sharon hurried to continue her questions before she would start sobbing uncontrollably again. She was always amazed at how some people allowed themselves to cry in front of someone else. Sharon herself always either ran away to shed her tears in private or bore her fingernails into her arm until the pain numbed the urge to cry. The latter was more difficult but absolutely feasible. She had even managed it back when she had just become a single mother, still pregnant with James and at the brink of maternity leave and her hormones had made a roller coaster of her emotions. She had gritted her teeth not to give her male colleagues an excuse to talk about her behind her back when they had found the corpse of a child, horribly mutilated. She had to admit, though, that it had been the hardest time she could recall.

"I can't really comment on the investigation at this point, Miss Dawson," she related to the girl. "Let's get this over with quickly so you can go home and rest. You have already told Detective Sanchez that you are 24 years old, that you have been working at The Haunted House since it was opened along with your friend Liza. Also, this morning you walked right from the changing room at the back of the building into the room downstairs where you stayed until an officer informed you of your friend's death. Is that correct?"

Just like she had hoped it would, the calm recounting of the previously given information calmed Liza and she nodded, dabbing at her face with the handkerchief again. "Yes. Yes, Ma'am."

"Are you always in this costume?" Sharon asked, trying to get her to calm down by asking easy questions about her routine.

"Yes. We all got assigned our roles when we started working for Mr Sullivan. I basically do the same thing every day."

"And you do it well!" Sharon gave her a smile and adjusted her glasses slightly. "You scared the crap out of me."

For the first time, the girl gave a small smirk in return. "Thanks. I do hope to get into more serious acting, though."

Sharon regarded the young woman in front of her. When not matted and powdered, her hair looked to be of a rich chestnut color and her features were regular and pretty, though not stunningly so. Liza was petite and had a vulnerable air around her.

"And your friend Anna? Was she auditioning for other parts, too?"

"I don't really think so," Liza said, fumbling with the handkerchief. "I think she hasn't really been that ambitious since she met Billy."

"Billy? Billy Smith? The young man working the ticket booth?" Sharon asked and received a nod.

"Yes. Him."

Sharon looked up and nodded at the camera, indicating for her squad to check out that connection. Experience had shown that people were usually murdered by the ones closest to them. Creepy-looking boyfriends were always quite high up on the suspect list.

"Did they get along well?"

The girl nodded, not meeting Sharon's eyes. "Very. I don't really know what she saw in him, though."

Sharon could relate to that statement but didn't comment on it. "What was Anna's scene supposed to look like?" she asked, despite the fact that Sanchez had already extracted that particular information from Sullivan himself. Apparently, the murder had been a bold case of life imitating art – if a Haunted House attraction actually classified as such – as the scene was pretty much meant to look exactly as it had. Except without real blood. Liza's description of it dovetailed exactly with what Sullivan had said earlier, so Sharon decided to let the distraught young woman off the hook for today.

"Miss Dawson, I must ask you not to leave town and keep yourself available for further questioning, okay?"

The girl looked up, horrified. "Does that mean I am a suspect?" she gasped.

"No. Not exactly. We just need all potential witnesses close."

She got up and held the door for the girl, feeling her bones ache with exhaustion. She had gotten up early that morning in order to finish some reports before leaving with Rusty and feeling as if someone had planted a bomb amidst her hormones while trying to concentrate on work wasn't exactly relaxing, either. She walked Liza Dawson out and then returned to the monitor room where Flynn and Rusty were waiting for her along with Buzz, who apparently had a vast supply of twizzlers stashed away somewhere in the room, as a new pack had just been opened. She took one and sat down next to Flynn, trying to ignore the scent of him that seemed to linger in her nostrils.

"Where is everyone?" she asked tiredly, a look at her watch confirming that it was almost 8 p.m.

"Tao is still in the Murder Room following up on the financial stuff, Provenza and Sanchez are next door talking to Mr Smith and Mr Flannigan respectively. They'll type up reports for you right after. I made sure of it."

She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes carefully not to smudge her mascara. "Flannigan? Is that the friendly hangman?"

A smile played at Flynn's lips. "Exactly. They were the only personnel present today. There is also some guy named Broyles who plays a crazy doctor but he is down with the flu so the woman who plays the nurse stayed home as well. Also, Dr. Morales called. He'll perform the autopsy tomorrow at ten."

"On a Sunday. Nice." Sharon sighed and leaned back in the chair, stretching her legs. She then reached blindly for her glasses on the table, touching Flynn's hand by accident. Her eyes flew open and she bolted upright, picking up her glasses with shaking hands. She had to stop maneuvering herself into embarrassing situations like this. She cleared her throat once, twice.

"Well. Did you notice she immediately assumed that the murder weapon was a razor blade? I, for one, immediately thought of a knife. Send an unmarked car to keep an eye on her." Buzz, whom the order had been directed at, immediately picked up the phone to arrange surveillance.

"I think it's time to get Rusty home," Sharon said. "I'll be at the autopsy tomorrow morning, though, to make up for my early departure."

"I can pick you up tomorrow morning if you like," Flynn offered and Sharon flinched.

"Um, no, that's not necessary…" She caught Buzz's confused stare. Watching autopsies was bad enough with a partner in tow but watching alone was often almost unbearable so they normally went in pairs. She realized that she couldn't come up with a good reason to refuse his offer to come along. At least none that wasn't related to the possibility that she would end up being very impious by shoving Flynn against the wall of the autopsy suite and-

"Well, sorry. Of course. Pick me up at half past nine." She needed to get out of here as soon as possible. As in right now. Otherwise her fidgety behavior might cause Buzz and Flynn to lose all respect for her and tarnish her reputation as a perfectly composed officer forever. "Rusty, meet me by the elevator in two minutes. I'll just wash my hands." With that, she stormed off.

"Yeah. I'll check on Provenza," Flynn mumbled, leaving into the other direction. Buzz and Rusty were left behind in silence. After a moment, Buzz chuckled.

"Man, they've got it bad."

Rusty was thinking along the very same lines but he didn't like anyone to make fun of Sharon so he furrowed his brow. "I don't know what you're talking about," he growled. "Sharon's just tired. She's been up forever. See you."

Buzz was still chuckling when Rusty left the room.

* * *

A good night's sleep and and a good run would settle her ill-fated attraction to Andy Flynn. Sharon had decided as much upon returning home the previous evening and she intended to follow through on it. Eight hours of sleep had certainly helped and so she felt rested when the alarm on her iPhone went off in the morning, signalling that it was time to put on her running shorts and head for the nearby park. She tied the laces on her shoes and stretched by the door, then pocketed her phone and her keys. Rusty was still fast asleep, judging from the ear-shattering sound of snoring that emitted from his room.

As usual, running helped. She felt herself relax while her steps pounded on the ground in a steady rhythm. She usually did a half hour every morning but today she felt that sixty minutes were more it. She ran faster than usual, her lungs burning slightly with the exertion. She liked the repetitiveness of running and the way all thoughts seemed to be sucked from her mind while she was at it. She had tried meditation and yoga at her doctor's advise back when life as a single mother and cop had stressed her so much that she had developed frequent migraines, but it had not helped at all. Finally, she had found that running regularly was the only thing that kept her sane. That and the transfer to Internal Affairs that allowed her to work more regular hours than in the field. Sixty minutes later, she felt almost at peace with the world again. Surely yesterday had been a mere slip-up. One of those days when you couldn't trust your own body anymore. Or something like that.

When her apartment building came into view, she found a familiar old battered car parked up front and to her shock, an even more familiar silver-haired head that belonged to the man climbing out of it at that very moment, carefully balancing two paper cups of coffee. She slowed down and walked towards him. Another look at her phone confirmed what she had known all along. He was an hour early.

"Has something come up, Lieutenant Flynn?"

Flynn turned around at the sound of the familiar voice and froze. There was Sharon Raydor, without her glasses or any trace of make-up and her hair pulled back into a long, wavy ponytail. More importantly, however, she was in running shorts that barely covered a third of her slim thighs. He couldn't help but stare at her long, lightly muscled runner's legs and the thick stripe of her sports bra that was visible where her baggy shirt had slipped down to reveal a delicate shoulder. He tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry. He could see the sweat glistening on her bare skin and the rising and falling of her chest mesmerized him when she came to stand in front of him, abruptly ending her run. Realizing that he would be caught if he didn't stop staring right away, he consulted his watch.

"No, actually. It's half past nine."

She narrowed her eyes and held her phone out for his inspection. "Not according to my phone."

He glanced at the digits indeed announcing that it was 7:30. For a moment, they just stared, then she leaned past him and checked out the clock inside his car.

"Damn it!" she hissed. "Something must be wrong with my phone. Come on in, then. I'll try to be quick. I certainly can't go like this."

He followed her into the building and into the elevator, doing his very best not to stare like an idiot. At least she didn't seem to be uncomfortable due to her state of dress. Or undress, rather. Instead, she was fumbling with her phone, leaving smudges of sweat on its screen.

"Damn technology!" she groaned. Oh, yes. The rule-loving Sharon Raydor was also big on punctuality and he imagined that she hated to be late due to some software glitch. He followed her into her apartment where she immediately shouted for Rusty. The teenager called back from the kitchen, already dressed, holding a cup of coffee. He didn't seem particularly surprised to see Flynn.

"Rusty! Did you do anything to my phone? It has the wrong time! I'm late!" Sharon threw the phone at the teenager and half ran, half stumbled off towards her bedroom. Flynn and Rusty both smiled at her sudden clumsy attitude and Flynn decided that he liked her not quite in control. There was something cute about it.

"Typical," Rusty told Flynn. "she is not as good with these things as she likes you to think." He unlocked the screen and began to type quickly. "Now, that's it. Back to normal time." He gestured towards the living-room. "I won't offer you coffee as I see you have brought your own." He grinned. "But you can have a seat on the couch if you want."

Flynn followed him into a tastefully furnished living-room that overlooked the city. Sharon either came from family money or she had invested smartly because both this apartment and the furniture could not have been afforded on a mere cop's salary, Flynn concluded. He sat down on the couch and sipped his coffee, taking in his surroundings. The room bore signs of Rusty living here but it was also very clear that it belonged to her. He spotted a bookshelf and narrowed his eyes to be able to read the titles on the spines. Many he didn't know, but he also found a few novels that he had read himself. It took Sharon all but twenty minutes to emerge from her bedroom, dressed in a dark green dress, still buttoning her black blazer. Her hair wasn't as elaborately done as usual but her make-up and professional mask were firmly in place. Unfortunately, Flynn could not get the image of her in her running clothes out of his mind. And he was sure that he wouldn't for a while.

"Could you fix it?" Sharon asked Rusty hopefully, holding out a hand for her phone. Rusty rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't that much a matter of fixing but of resetting the time."

Sharon let the air out of her lungs. "Thank you, Rusty, I hope I'll be home for lunch. Be good, okay?"

The car ride was spent in silence with Flynn trying to avoid casually glancing over at Sharon's knees that were exposed by the skirt that had ridden up a little and with Sharon trying not to inhale the air inside the car too deeply as it carried his scent. She had to admit that she had been wrong. Neither sleep nor exercise could take the fuzzy feeling away that she felt whenever she looked at her colleague… subordinate. She felt thoroughly uncomfortable at the thought that he had just seen her half-naked, covered in sweat and without any make-up. How was he supposed to find her attractive when she looked like such a mess? No. He wasn't supposed to find her attractive, she mentally corrected herself. She should have worn a suit, she then suddenly thought. Something less figure-hugging. Why did her skirt keep riding up? She suddenly felt hot and flustered. She had to get a grip on herself before her state began to show. The biggest of her worries, however, was that she suspected her attraction to be not just physical. The butterflies in her stomach were a tell tale sign. She felt like burying her head inside her hands. How did she deserve this? She had always tried to play by the rules, to do everything the right way, to fulfil her duties, be there for her kids and to be a good cop. And now this? After all these years? It was royal torture.

"Do you run every day?" Flynn suddenly asked.

"Yes," she confirmed. "keeps me sane."

He chuckled. "Yeah. Me, too."

* * *

It didn't matter whether it was day or night, rain or shine, a weekday or a Sunday, the morgue always felt cold and cheerless. Sharon and Andy stood by the autopsy table, both dressed in the unflattering blue scrubs that were mandatory around here, along with latex gloves and surgical masks that stuck uncomfortably to one's lips after a while when one tried to breathe in and out. At least the tragic sight of the young woman's dead body calmed Sharon's inner turmoil and replaced excitement and lust with dread and mournfulness at the loss of young life. Anna Miles had been only 22 and pretty with full lips, a small pointed nose and arched eyebrows. Her hair was auburn and pooled around her head. Her eyes were closed, her body limp as rigor mortis had already come and gone. She looked peaceful and a lot more dignified than victims who had been shot or mutilated. What bothered Sharon most, however, was that she bore a slight resemblance to her own daughter, Laura. She tried to remember which uniformed officer she had sent to inform the parents and vowed to do it herself next time, even though she knew that her job didn't allow for it. The thought of losing one of her children made her feel as if a cold hand was gripping her heart and squeezing the life out of it. Her hand felt for her phone in her pocket, feeling the urge to send a text or reread one of the amused replies to her "Darth Raydor" text the previous night.

Most of the autopsy only delivered routine results. No defensive wounds, no tissue under her fingernails. The loss of blood through the wounds on her wrists had clearly been the cause of death and someone had held her down while cutting her wrists, indicated by the reddened areas of skin where fingernails had bored into it.

"Can you tell what kind of weapon was used to slit the wrists?" Sharon asked, immediately annoyed at the fact that her voice sounded throaty with sadness. From the corner of her eyes she could see Flynn watching her but she didn't look at him.

"A razor or a small knife, I suppose. I'll have an expert have a look at it, though," Morales offered.

When they were back in the deserted hallway, Sharon listened to the comforting sound of her own heels on the tiles, trying to regain the feeling of stability the steady rhythm of her running had given her. She didn't like autopsies in the first place, but this one seemed a little too close to home. She couldn't shake the image of her own daughter off. It was a predicament that having children brought along. Every young dead body you encountered bore the faces of your own children. She had long since learned to somehow live with it, but today it shook her more badly than usual. Maybe it was the fact that she was so out of sorts because of Flynn or maybe it was because she hadn't seen her daughter in person for a while. She couldn't tell but it was painful either way.

"You skipped breakfast, didn't you?" Flynn had stopped at a vending machine in the empty entrance hall. She looked at it and shook her head in disbelief. Why anyone would need a vending machine near decomposing bodies, she had no idea. Maybe it was for young cops whose stomachs couldn't yet take it and had had to be refilled after coming up again? Or maybe the pathologists just didn't care anymore. She'd heard of some having meals in their autopsy suites when they were especially busy. She hated the thought not only because it was a clear breach of rules but also because she felt it was disrespectful towards the victims.

"I did," she answered softly. "but then an empty stomach is probably a good thing around here."

Flynn smirked. "You look a little green, if I may say so, Captain."

"You may not," she shot back, realizing too late that she sounded flirty.

"Okay, but it would be an honor to buy you a chocolate bar." Without waiting for a reply, he walked towards the vending machine and fed quarters to it, retrieving his purchase a moment later. She was almost disappointed when he held it out to her instead of placing it in her palm and thereby making physical contact.

"Thanks," she said, touched besides herself. They walked to the door side by side and he paused, looking at her expectantly. Sharon grinned self-consciously and unwrapped the chocolate bar, taking a bite.

"Happy?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Here I am, stuffing myself with calories again."

He huffed. "Don't be like that. You can afford it. I've never seen anyone look that good in running shorts before."

She gave a surprised laugh and he blushed slightly. "Sorry, Captain."

Sharon finished the rest of her chocolate bar in silence, secretly revelling in the thought that he had liked what he had seen. Back in the car, he turned towards her at a red light.

"Anna was pretty. Poor thing. Somehow I feel like you never get used to the sight of young people dying," he said ruefully and she could see in his eyes that he wasn't just making conversation. Like her, the autopsy had affected him emotionally.

"She reminded me of Laura," she admitted. "she has beautiful hair like that. I don't know what I would do if anything happened to her." The knot in her stomach that she thought had been dissolved by their exchange by the vending machine was firmly back in place, pressing down on her stomach.

"Same with me," he said. "I don't see my kids very often but the thought of anyone harming them makes me want to reach for my gun and-" he stopped himself. "I might sound a little crazy here."

She shook her head. "Not at all. If anyone dared hurt Laura, James or Rusty, I couldn't guarantee that I wouldn't shoot them myself."

He nodded in understanding, then smiled. "Rusty, too, eh?"

She smiled, too, only noticing now that she had included Rusty without even thinking about it. "Of course. He can be a pain but he already feels like a son to me. I really hate thinking about the fact that foster care is meant to be temporary. I don't want them to take him away from me again." She chuckled in embarrassment when she caught Flynn's sympathetic look. "Look at me! A few months with a foster child and I want to adopt him on the spot. I am too soft for all of this." She felt a lump in her throat that usually brought tears but they were easily held at bay. Flynn signalled to turn into the parking lot at the LAPD building and stopped the car in his usual spot.

"I don't think that's a bad thing. Rusty needs someone to love him and if you're it, he can count himself very lucky."

She smiled. "Still." She reached out her hand and placed it on his arm. "Don't tell anyone I tore up like this."

The touch was enough to shut them both up. Suddenly the tension between them was almost palpable.

"The Wicked Witch?" Flynn asked. "Nobody would believe me anyway."

She hated that nickname but she was still amazed that it sounded like a term of endearment when he said it. She wanted to pull her hand away but somehow her limbs were too heavy to be moved as she was caught in Flynn's eyes, her own heartbeat thundering inside her ears.

"We should go in," he said in a low, intimate voice that betrayed what he had just said.

"We should," she replied equally quietly, leaning in slightly. The almost defeated rational part of her brain was still able to uphold the rules to some extent. She could not possibly kiss a subordinate but maybe she could be kissed by one. He hesitated for a moment that felt so long that it was almost too painful to endure. Then he placed his free hand on top of hers where it was still resting on his arm and closed the remaining distance between them. He paused to give her time to withdraw but when she didn't, his lips touched hers, brushing them very lightly at first. Sharon felt ready to faint when his hand came up to gently cup her cheek. She parted her lips and allowed him to deepen the kiss, feeling his hot breath on her skin when he placed another kiss at the corner of her mouth. She knew that she would hate herself later, but she had already fallen off the edge so she lifted her hands and ran one through his hair, pulling his head towards her to deepen the kiss again. Flynn moaned slightly and inched as close to her as possible with the car console between them, his hand now caressing her hip. She wasn't sure how long they had been kissing when the sound of another car startled them both. She felt the imprint of his stubble on her face and her lips were wet and burning when she withdrew, running a exasperated hand over her cheek. He didn't apologize or comment but just pulled back as well and took a deep breath. They looked at each other one last time before Sharon bolted from the car, feeling both elated and horrified at how breaking the rules could be so rewarding.

Outside, they saw Provenza climb out of his car, his tie askew, a cup of coffee in his right hand.

"Oh man!" he shouted towards them across the parking lot from where he was approaching. "Andy, you have got to get the AC-unit in that moving scrap head fixed! You two look as if temperatures were really high in there."

**A/N**: I still squeal happily at every new review. You guys rock! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Happy election night, everyone! I wanted to vote for Laura Roslin but apparently that is not possible and also I am not a US-citizen. Darn. So I decided to finish the next chapter while watching election night on TV. I hope you enjoy. :)

**6**

Louis Provenza followed Sharon Raydor and Andy Flynn as they walked across the parking lot and towards the entrance of the building that housed Major Crimes. The light of the autumn sun was almost orange today and made Raydor's long, auburn hair light up like fire. Andy turned his face slightly towards her, taking in the sight with a very telling look on his face. Now that no one was paying attention to him, Provenza chuckled instead of growling at his best friend's very obvious infatuation with their boss. Raydor turned her head towards Andy and stiffened slightly when she caught him marveling at her. She narrowed her eyes behind her dark-rimmed glasses and subtly stepped aside to get more room between them. Provenza could see that her usually immaculate lipstick was smudged at the left corner of her mouth and the slightly reddened areas of skin near her lips spoke volumes, too. He grinned and whipped out his iPhone, quickly sending a text to Rusty that simply read „The eagle has landed.". The kid was smart, he thought. He would surely get it. Provenza wasn't in a hurry to catch up to the pair in front of him. Watching their awkward yet charged interactions was just priceless. He tried to remember whether he had ever seen Flynn falling so hard for anyone before but came up empty-handed. Judging from Raydor's now very flustered appearance and the red dress on a Sunday, she didn't feel indifferent to Andy either. She'd better not, Provenza thought, or he'd make her life hell for kicking his best-friend-turned-puppy in the ribs.

Then again, he didn't expect her to. Sharon Raydor was definitely not a femme fatale who broke men's hearts for fun and games. If she had given in to the urge to kiss Andy Flynn, Provenza knew, she had to like him a lot. Or maybe she was just in dire need of getting laid? No, he concluded. She had to like him, too. She would not break her precious rules for someone who didn't mean anything to her. That fondness of the rules, however, was exactly what made Provenza fear for the sound condition of his partner's heart. What if she suddenly came to her senses and decided that giving in to the temptation was wrong, against the rules of professional conduct and all? Provenza suspected that she might try to punish herself by ignoring Flynn and thereby not only denying both of them the pleasure of acting upon their urges but also depriving them of the opportunity to at least talk about it. She seemed like the sort of person who would hurt herself without noticing that she was hurting others in the process. Provenza sighed quietly. He hoped she wouldn't. Was she the kind who was afraid of commitment in order not to get their heart broken? From what he had heard from friends in the force about her relationship with her ex-husband, love hadn't treated her too well in the past. It had been back when she had been working the field as a detective with a baby on the way and a prominently philandering husband that she had acquired the icy attitude and apparent ignorance of other people's dislike of her. Her former partner had confided in Provenza over a couple of beers and told him that he felt a little guilty of not having her back when the others had made fun of the way her husband chatted up every woman he came across. Especially since she had been in the room during the exchange, only making her presence known after everyone had already gotten a good laugh out of her husband's latest shenanigans. After the birth of her second child, she had transferred to Internal Affairs without as much as saying goodbye. Upon learning that, Provenza had begun to feel a little guilty himself of opposing her so openly and so he had cut down his abuse to the occasional semi-good-natured comment.

She was quite good at hiding her feelings behind the always composed and carefully guarded persona she assumed at work but Provenza could see the way her body language changed when Flynn was around. Especially in the beginning she had always looked a little relieved when he had entered the room, as if she could relax around her squad only if her sole true ally was present. It had changed as time had gone by and people had learned to appreciate and even like her. They had once again become a team and accepted her as the head of it. However, Provenza could still see that she was a little fonder of Flynn than of the other squad members. Raydor was not someone who often touched others but he had seen her place her hand on Flynn's arm or shoulder on several occasion. Every time, his friend's face had lit up like a Christmas tree.

They reached the building and he snapped out of his thoughts in time to witness an awkward smile of Raydor's when Flynn held the door for her. Provenza marched through before Flynn could beat him to it and growled at his friend as he passed him.

"Keep it together, will you? You look like you want to jump her right here," he whispered, putting just the right amount of annoyance into his voice to sound credible.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Flynn replied nonchalantly.

"Of course you don't," Provenza said evenly. "but may I tell you something else? There is lipstick on your chin."

Grinning triumphantly, he marched towards the elevator, relishing the shocked gasp he could hear behind him.

* * *

The Major Crimes team was assembled around the Murder Room with Sharon standing right beside the whiteboard, her arms folded and her ankles elegantly crossed while the others were behind their desks or perched on the edges of someone else's. She looked around the room and took in the sight of her team. There was Tao, looking just as sharp as the pencil between his fingers, his other hand resting on the printouts that likely contained all the financial information she could wish for concerning the Haunted House attraction. He would sum in up in a few poignant sentences, she was sure. Tao was nothing if not efficient. Sykes looked calm and fresh-faced in a pristine white blouse and casual tan suit, eager to learn and gain experience. She was ambitious, Sharon thought, and she had learned to be a little careful with ambitious people. Sykes however, seemed to have a good heart that frequently won over her relative ruthlessness. Sanchez looked a little tired, his shirt crumpled and his tie loosened. He had apparently been here for a while already. Provenza was in his chair, leaning back as far as possible without falling over with his legs stretched out, both arms folded over his belly, keeping his balance by means of his heels that were firmly planted on the carpet. And then there was Andy Flynn who had gone into hiding behind his desk, looking remarkably nondescript. His brown eyes were trained on the whiteboard in front, not acknowledging the fact that her legs were right in his view and his hands were flatly pressed against the desktop, not showing any sign of agitation. Sharon thought of the look in his eyes just before he had kissed her and felt her knees weaken for a second. This was ridiculous, she thought. She wasn't a teenager. And still, when he had told her how he would kill to protect his children and had then sheepishly apologized for seeming mad, her heart had gone out to him as it did quite frequently, lately. He looked up from the board and their eyes met for the briefest of moments before he turned to the side to check something on his phone. She swallowed. Enough of this, she had a team to lead and a murder to solve.

Quickly, she related the post mortem findings to her fellow officers and then heard Tao on the financial situation that was a little more dire than Sullivan had let on. While he was indeed well off personally, his little venture seemed to swallow money like a black hole. Maintaining the house and paying the actors was expensive and the little amount of money brought in by the visitors didn't even begin to cover the costs. Next up, Provenza and Sanchez gave short summaries on the previous evenings' interviews with Billy Smith and Greg Benton, which was apparently the hangman's name.

"No luck with Smith. Kid was beside himself," Provenza said. "completely in shock. I didn't get much out of him last night, Captain. Counted himself lucky to have a pretty girlfriend like that."

"I can see why," Sykes interjected dryly.

"Yeah. He's not exactly a looker," Provenza agreed. "Told him to come back today. He should be here in ten minutes. Maybe you should have a look at him, Captain. Guess he's one of these lost kids you're dealing so well with."

Sharon lifted her eyebrows slightly at the comment but let it slip.

"Hangman didn't hear a thing. Just hung out downstairs," Sanchez grinned sheepishly at his own dumb joke. Provenza and Sykes laughed anyway. The atmosphere was calm and relaxed despite the fact that they were working on a Sunday and while Sharon was partly glad, she also felt that it was a little inappropriate due to the silent girl she had seen at the morgue.

"Well," she said. "I'll take care of Mr Smith then. Would you like to sit in, Detective Sykes?"

Sykes face lit up despite herself. She had been waiting for her chance to assist the Captain in an interview for a while. "Yes, Captain. I'd…" she trailed off, trying not to look and sound too eager. "I mean, sure."

"Oh, don't wet your pants with excitement!" Provenza barked, making Sykes blush beside herself. Sharon rolled her eyes and parted with the desk she had been leaning against.

"Okay, everyone. Good work. I don't see any hot leads, however. Lieutenant Tao, Detective Sanchez, I think you two could use a break. Feel free to go home and catch some sleep." The two men rose almost instantly and she could now see that Tao did indeed not look as crisp and alert as usual. These two had been doing overtime all without even mentioning it, causing her to give them a proud little smile. "Lieutenant Provenza, you may also-"

Provenza cut her off. "I'm not going to leave you alone with The Creep. Scout's honor." He touched his heart with his left fist in a pathetic gesture that made the room erupt with laughter around him. Sharon couldn't help but feel touched by Provenza's protectiveness and nodded at him, smiling very slightly.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Provenza. Now, what about you, Lieutenant Flynn?" He turned towards him, bracing herself for the inner turmoil that now accompanied every time she looked at him. His boyish grin made her fingertips tingle.

"I am your ride, remember?"

* * *

Sharon wasn't very fond of degrading nicknames, having acquired a few too many of those during her own career. However, she had to admit with chagrin that "The Creep" suited the young man seated across from her fairly well. She hadn't gotten a good look at him back at the Haunted House as she had been so surprised by Flynn's and Provenza's presence. Now that he was right here in an unflattering gray dress shirt and ill-fitting pants, both of his hands placed awkwardly on his thighs, she could not help but feel a little creeped out. His face looked blank, his hair was stuck to his forehead, containing a little more pomade than could be considered attractive on anyone. He was bent forwards slightly, his upper arms almost touching the edge of the table that stood between them. Provenza had been wrong, however, this young man did not have the air of a helpless child. He was almost thirty, she had just learned, but looked slightly older.

"Mr Smith, I am very sorry for your loss," she said, tilting her head slightly to catch his eye. Only after a moment he raised his mud-colored eyes and his slightly pudgy chin wobbled in recognition. "I am Captain Raydor," she said as softly as she could muster, given her immediate dislike of the man sitting across from her.

"Yeah, I know," he replied evenly, his voice sounding as if it came from the pit of a very deep funnel.

"When did you arrive at work yesterday?" she asked, a bit taken aback by his indifference.

"Half past eight," he said, not meeting her eyes. "We open at nine."

"Were there many visitors, yet?"

"Just a group of teenage girls and then that Lieutenant Provenza who interviewed me yesterday with some friend. They met up with some woman and a teenager."

"Yeah, that would have been me," Sharon said impatiently. Somehow she suspected that the young man across from her was abusing some kind of substance. She instinctively thought prescription pills. That would also explain his dull hair and caseous skin as well as his overall bloated appearance.

He looked up and eyed her as if he was seeing her for the first time then shrugged. "I don't remember everyone who goes in there."

"And yet there aren't that many visitors, are there?" Sharon asked a little more sharply than she had intended. He looked up, his shoulders rising slightly at the sharpness her question had been delivered with. His eyes narrowed and gave his formerly unresponsive face an air of vigilance.

"Not so many. There were more in the summer."

"Are there any financial problems with the Haunted House?" Sykes asked a little too bluntly.

"I wouldn't know. I just sell tickets," he said sulkily.

"Is that your only ob? Do you attend college?" Sykes fired away, a little too eagerly.

"Not sure what to do with my life yet," he slurred.

The interview dragged on maddeningly slowly and Sharon left the preliminary questions to Sykes both so she could practice and so Sharon could catch her breath. While Sykes was establishing Billy's background and asked about his relationship with the victim, Sharon's thoughts wandered. She thought about Andy's hand on her hips and fleetingly wondered what might have happened if there hadn't been a car console separating them. She had to admit that he was an awfully good kisser, being both gentle and adamant at the same time. Sharon felt elated and a bit like the teenager she certainly wasn't anymore. She had forgotten how good a secret kiss in the car felt, about the way it made you feel drunk but without any of the unwelcome side-effects like nausea. Maybe a little dizziness, she mused. But in a good way. The more she thought about what had happened, however, the more her initial happiness receded and the truth began to sink in. Frolicking in a car with a subordinate could cost her her job, her reputation and the respect of her superior officers. She would never make commander if anyone found out about what had happened and was likely to happen if she allowed things to progress like this. There was no way around it: Starting something with Andy Flynn was wrong. Even if it was something more than just mindless sex. Especially then. How could she be sure that she was keeping Flynn back from dangerous situations because someone else was better suited to do the job and not because she wanted him out of harm's way? How could she not favor him when it came to possible promotions? It was all wrong. Very wrong and Sharon felt lost. She wasn't used to having broken the rules and she didn't know what to do. She squared her shoulders. She had to talk to Andy and tell him that they had to stop. And soon.

Also, she had to go for another run tonight.

An agitated growl pulled her from her dazed state and she was shocked to find that she seemed to have missed the point where Sykes had stopped calmly asking questions and had cut right to the chase: "Weren't you jealous sometimes, Billy? I mean, didn't you think she was too good for you sometimes?"

"What on earth are you implying?" Billy's eyes were wide with shock and anger.

Sharon didn't believe her ears. How could she have allowed Sykes to go down that route? How could she be sitting next to an inexperienced young officer, leave the questioning all to her and get lost in her day dreams? How could she be so unprofessional? She leaned forward and shot Sykes a sideways glare.

"Mister Smith," she said in a low voice, trying to calm him. "We just need to exclude you as a suspect." It wasn't exactly true, but she knew by instinct that this man needed to feel safe again. She felt a dangerous vibe coming from him that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Despite his general lack of emotional response that was so completely at odds with what Provenza had said about his previous behavior, she felt an undefined rage building under the surface. Quiet, uninterested suspects could turn out to be the most dangerous.

"Exclude me as a suspect?" His voice was high and thin now. "Why would I be a suspect in my girlfriend's murder?" He was shaking now, one hand gripping the armrest of his chair. "That's absurd." His eyes flitted towards Sykes and his knuckles turned white.

"Detective Sykes, would you mind getting Mr Smith a glass of water?" Sharon asked with forced calm. She needed to get Sykes out of the room as her mere presence seemed to upset Smith in his state. Her suspect was slowly coming undone and it was her own fault, as she had allowed Sykes to run free by not paying attention. Sykes looked reluctant for a moment but nodded and obediently went to the door. As soon as she had left, Sharon tried to adopt a warm smile but failed partly, hoping that her dislike did not show too clearly.

"Now, Mr. Smith. Just walk me through your day again, okay?"

Unfortunately, the man opposite her seemed to be too far engulfed in his building rage to be able to be talked to reasonably.

"You think I killed her!"

He ran a hand through his hair, hair grease sticking to his palm. Sharon grimaced involuntarily and was shocked to find him looking at her the precise moment that her lip curled. His eyes lit up with recognition.

"You think I am a murderer! You honestly believed that I killed Anna! My lovely Anna! The only woman who ever looked twice at me!"

He rose from his chair that tumbled over with the force of his exit and rounded the table more quickly than Sharon thought possible. She was on her feet only when he had almost reached the door.

"Sit back down," she commanded sternly, not about to have her suspect or witness or whatever he would turn out to be leave the room with her permission.

"You can't make me stay. I want a lawyer!" he shouted at her, close to hysterics now.

"Please, Mr. Smith. Calm down. I would like you to retake your seat."

"I want a lawyer!" His hand was on the doorknob now and Sharon had enough.

"You will get a lawyer. I will call them personally but right now you will sit back down!"

He stared at her, dumfounded, then turned towards the door.

"Mr. Smith!" She tried one last time, her voice ice-cold. "You are making yourself look suspicious by leaving without my permission. Are you aware of that? So far, I did not treat you as a suspect. If you do this, however, I am more than prepared to do so."

Billy Smith gave a low guttural cry that sounded like a wounded animal. His hands were trembling, his shoulders hunched and his eyes restless. Definitely drugs, Sharon thought, she had seen this stance before in officers that had been on duty under the influence of one substance or another, mostly cocaine or speed, and had lost it and shot a suspect or a completely innocuous civilian.

"Sit down," she said again, softly now. Then she realized her own mistake. The sudden change in attitude seemed to confuse him and he froze for a moment, then suddenly lunged towards her and grabbed her shoulders. Despite herself, Sharon gave an undignified shriek and stumbled backwards, knocked into the interview table. His grip on her shoulders was surprisingly hard and his face was suddenly too close to hers for anything resembling comfort. She could feel his hot, damp breath on her face when he continued yelling at her, protesting his innocence over and over again. In the process, he pulled her towards him and slammed her into the table again, knocking the wind out of her.

A moment later, the door flew open and Andy Flynn came running in, gun in hand. Sharon's eyes widened as he gripped Billy Smith so hard that the younger man lost balance. Yanking him away from Sharon, Andy slammed Smith into the nearest wall and blocked his throat with his forearm, fury written all over his face.

"Take your dirty hands off her, bastard!"

"Andy, it's okay!" Sharon called out, trembling.

Andy turned around, hesitantly taking his body weight off the quivering mess that was Sharon's assailant. He felt embarrassed by his outburst from the second his eyes met hers. He could see the same steely resolve there that she always showed in dire situations. Somehow, he knew right away that he didn't owe the ice queen attitude to the assault itself, but to his stupid rescue and cheesy command. He dropped his arm and grabbed Billy's shirt, trying to preserve his own dignity by roughly dropping him into Sharon's chair. Sharon didn't like to be rescued. At least not in a big scene like this one. He should have walked in calmly, pulled the guy off Sharon and handcuffed him. Instead, he had acted like a raging maniac, protecting his woman. Which was mortifying at best. But some pathetic instinct had taken over when he had seen Smith attack Sharon on the screen in the monitor room. Sharon's soft groan when he had grabbed her, well-heard over the intercom, had settled it. What seemed like seconds later he had found himself in this room, ready to beat the crap out of the man.

"Mr. Smith, I believe you need a moment to cool down while I call your lawyer," Sharon said icily, ignoring the fact that the young man was sobbing now. Provenza had appeared in the doorway, accompanied by an usually pale Sykes. Sharon nodded sharply at them.

"Lieutenant Provenza, would you watch Mr. Smith for a moment, please? Sykes, call his lawyer." She turned towards Flynn menacingly. "Lieutenant Flynn, my office. Now." The glare she gave him was so completely different from the tender look they had shared in the car that Flynn thought he might be sick. He had blown it.

For some reason, Tao and Sanchez were still in the Murder Room, collecting their things. Both looked up as Sharon marched by in perfect Darth Raydor attitude, ignoring them on her way to her office whose door she ripped open with force and stood aside for Flynn to enter first. Her eyes were shooting daggers at Flynn who caught a pitying look from his colleagues as he walked in. She slammed the door and shut the blinds with a start. Without looking at him, she marched towards her desk and leaned against it, both of her hands behind her back.

"What on earth were you thinking, Andy?"

He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head, deeming it best to stick with the truth. "I couldn't bear the thought of anyone hurting you, Sharon."

If she softened, she didn't show it and he wasn't sure whether she was still trembling from the shock or the rage that was now building.

"I am not a damsel in distress that needed to be rescued, Andy! You can count yourself lucky that only Provenza and Buzz witnessed that little scene. The way you manhandled Smith was atrocious! He has a good chance of winning the law suit he might bring against us. Are you aware of that? You are a police officer and you need to conduct yourself as one! Mindless violence is never the answer. Not even if you do it to protect me." She finally lowered her voice. "Especially then."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," Flynn said, shaking his head. He was very well aware that it wasn't Sharon talking to Andy but Captain Raydor talking to Lieutenant Flynn. As much as he desired her, he needed to remember that she was his superior officer and could reprimand him as such. "I was way out of line. I assure you it will not happen again."

She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes to calm herself down. "Andy," she said in a soft voice. "What were you thinking?" He looked up from where he had been staring at the floor like a school boy that had been summoned to see the headmistress. He didn't know what else to say without ending up being repetitive. He had screwed up and he knew it. When his eyes met hers, he was hit by the tenderness of her look and before he knew it, she had grabbed his elbows and pulled him towards her. Once again, she roughly bumped against a table, her desk this time, and she moaned but not with pain when she reached up and pulled Flynn towards her, hungrily covering his lips with hers.

Sharon was almost sure that she had lost it. What on earth had made her reach out and do this? She had dragged Flynn into her office with the firm intention of completely stomping him into the ground. The way he had handled the situation back in the interview room had left her embarrassed. He had acted like the knight in the shining armor who bolted in to rescue his princess. It had just been a little uglier. At least he hadn't made use of his drawn gun. One kiss and they were already coming apart at the seams. And now this. She had been about to tell him to forget about their kiss in the car. If he couldn't handle himself, there would be no more kissing. Hell, even if he could restrain himself from beating every unruly suspect up, there would be no more kissing. It was hazardous to both of their careers and they knew it. Also: The Rules. Then suddenly his earlier statement had sunk in. Telling her that he couldn't bear the thought of anyone hurting her would have sounded macho if anyone else had said it. Flynn, however, had sounded pained and embarrassed and he hadn't looked at her. The moment it hit her she had felt a powerful surge of both arousal and endearment and had succumbed to her instincts that were screaming at her to get hands and lips all over this man.

Even now that she should already have driven him away and straightened out her jacket, the only thing she could think of was the fact that the whole length of his body was pressed against hers while they were feverishly kissing. If she just dipped back a little, he would be right on top of her. Then she finally grabbed hold of his shoulder, clenching her fist into the fabric of his jacket one last time before she broke the kiss abruptly.

"We can't do this," she said, desperately trying to catch her breath. "There are a million reasons!"

She didn't remember running her hands through his hair but according to the look of him, she most definitely had. Flynn stood, completely taken aback by the whole situation. She could imagine why: First she assaulted him like that and then she drove him away and told him that it couldn't happen. He remained stunned for another moment, then shook his head as if to chase the drowsiness away. A small grin appeared on his face that she found completely inappropriate and therefore completely alluring.

"I don't think I can stay away from you after this."

Sharon closed her eyes briefly. What had she gotten herself into? How could she have been so stupid? She tumbled back towards the desk and bumped into it, a pain shooting through her back where it had made contact with the interview table earlier.

"Oh."

"Are you okay?" Andy asked, suddenly sobered, his hand reached out to touch her but frozen in mid-air. She was amazed that he wasn't trying anything but respected her boundaries instead. Her resolve was quite obviously melted and all it would have taken would have been a little nudge and she would have had sex with him on her desk. The thought made her skin tingle with arousal but she didn't allow herself even as much as a flash of that fantasy.

"Yes. Just my back." She waved her hand. "It will pass."

Suddenly she didn't feel strong enough to deliver her complete speech on proper conduct, the fact that office romances were prohibited by the law and the fact that she was sorry that she had created such an unhealthy work environment for him. She was suddenly worn-out and felt a slight headache coming on. She would finish up with the interviews and then have that talk with him tomorrow.

"Let's get back to Mr. Smith now. His lawyer should be here any minute," she told Flynn stiffly and he nodded running his hand through his hair to flatten it. They had almost reached the door when he stopped, looking down at Sharon with a fond expression. She opened her mouth to tell him to stop looking at her like that and forget it had ever happened as soon as possible but he just smiled and reached out, running his hand over her hair to rearrange the tangled strands with one simple gesture. He made to pull his hand back, still smiling with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. Sharon caught his hand in hers where it gently brushed her cheek and turned her head, pressing a light kiss on to his palm.

"Never again," she whispered but Flynn's face lit up anyway.

"Never, Captain Raydor."


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

The sun was low in the sky when Sharon and Flynn walked back into the parking lot after wrapping up the interview with Billy Smith whose lawyer had managed to somehow stall each and every one of their questions. Wary and disappointed, they had been huddling around the table in the conference room afterward, cups of stale coffee in front of them, discussing strategy with Provenza and a still subdued Sykes. Their discussions had revealed the fact that every one of them had their money on a different suspect. While Sharon felt suspicious of the Exorcist Girl, Sykes was sure that Sullivan had something to do with it. Provenza and Flynn, however, firmly insisted on Smith being the killer. Sharon knew very well that she could have called it a day an hour ago, but somehow she had been eager to delay the inevitable car ride home.

She walked around the car and opened the passenger's door, somewhat resigned to her fate. Now exhausted and dissatisfied by the turn of events concerning the case, she felt more than just a little embarrassed by having kissed Flynn in her office. If anyone needed to cite an example of absolute unprofessional conduct, this might as well be it. She was surprised by how Flynn had managed to get his act together after they had walked back into the squad room. Except for one time during their brainstorming session with Provenza and Sykes when their eyes had met and he had held her gaze a little longer than necessary, he had acted as if nothing had ever happened. She was both relieved and a little disappointed.

Flynn started the engine and drove off the parking lot. Now confined to the small space of the car's interior, his scent enveloped her again. It seemed a little more musky than it had in the morning and Sharon imagined that it was more him now that the cologne had worn off a bit and had been replaced with faint traces of sweat, coffee and maybe a bit of arousal. Sharon couldn't shake off the images of the kiss in her office and the ghost of the feeling of his body against hers. This was proving to be a lot more difficult than she had imagined.

Flynn finally broke the silence, his voice neutral and warm. "What do you think is worse? Having no suspect at all or everyone being a suspect?"

The case. He was talking about the case. Sharon, again, felt both relief and disappointment. Forming coherent answers in her mind was a bit of a challenge given their physical closeness.

"Depends, I guess," she replied, revealing the complete lack of her usual eloquence. Usually when she was working a case, she tended to submerge herself in it, giving in to the desire of turning the facts around in her head at every possible opportunity to figure it out. It was both a challenge and a kind of obsessive-compulsive habit that she had believed she would never be able to shake off. Today, however, the facts seemed to have slipped from her mind the moment they had entered the car.

"I think we should do a little more research into the suspects' backgrounds. See if any red flags turn up. Maybe one of them has a history of violence that isn't documented in our databases," Flynn went on calmly, once again surprising Sharon. It seemed that after having been told that they could never kiss again, he had simply accepted it and moved on. She felt both betrayed and oddly irate by the fact that she seemed to be the one who was unable to get him out of her mind while he seemed all calm and professional. So far, it had always been the other way around. She realized that she still owed him an answer only when he glanced at her quickly.

"Are you alright, Sharon?"

No. She was not alright at all. Her world had been turned upside down and her feelings were all messy and jumbled.

"Yes. Sorry, Andy. I am just a little exhausted. It has been a long day."

"Indeed," Flynn answered evenly but with the slightest edge in his voice that hinted at the more physically exhausting moment in her office. It was enough, however, to make Sharon snap. Sitting next to him, physically restraining herself from reaching out for him was not an option. It would not make things better and if she ever wanted to work with him again, she needed to approach the matter reasonably. Unfortunately, she couldn't lecture him again as he was an image of professionalism right now.

"Andy, could you stop the car for a moment?" she asked politely, earning a surprised jerk of the head.

"Sure." Andy signaled and turned off the highway to stop the car on an empty rest area. He turned off the engine and unbuckled his seat belt in order to be able to face her more comfortably. Resting both of his hands on the steering wheel, he gave her an expectant look that made her realize that he wasn't about to make this any easier on her.

"Look," she said. "it's been an eventful weekend."

He nodded slowly, pursing his lips slightly in the way he always did.

"I think I created some very difficult situations for the both of us. Actually, I am afraid I gave you a wrong impression."

His lips twitched very slightly and she knew that he was enjoying her barely disguised awkwardness.

"So what was wrong about that impression, Sharon?" Her first name rolled off his lips easily, as if he had been calling her by it forever. When had they started calling each other by their first names, anyway? Sharon couldn't recall but returning to their ranks and last names felt wrong somehow. She didn't know how to answer his question because she was now aware of the fact that he had seen right through her. When she remained silent, he took one hand off the steering wheel and put it on his thigh, assuming a more relaxed posture.

"I think, Sharon, that the impression you gave me was not wrong at all."

"What?" she quipped, her voice strained.

"From what happened today, I am under the impression that you are attracted to me. Are you trying to tell me that my assumption is false?"

Sharon knew that lying would not improve the situation at all, so she shook her head. Andy didn't seem to need a verbal answer but went on in that strangely calm voice.

"Can I be frank with you?"

She nodded again, wondering what on earth he was about to say. He turned fully towards her, one hand now on the console between them while the other was gripping the steering wheel vigorously, giving away the fact that he was not as relaxed as he was pretending to be.

"Sharon, you are killing me. You have been for a while now. It may sound cheesy but I have been dreading being alone with you for the past few weeks because I was worried that you would see it in my face. Today we crossed a line that managed to keep me sane, so far. If you want me to stay away from you in the future, you need to tell me off now. And I don't mean tell me off and then kiss me."

She stared at him, dumbfounded. He was quite right. He liked her – she filed away the thought of just how much for later consideration – and he was asking her to either fully give in to him or to push him away for good. She could not resume her bipolar behavior towards him and she had to make a decision. She suddenly felt foolish for having acted so unreasonably. She was his superior officer, the one who was responsible for keeping him in check. Not the other way around. Sharon only saw now how completely out of character she had been acting all day.

"I am so sorry," she blurted out. "I've been acting like an idiot!"

He shrugged. "I won't complain, Sharon. I have to admit I kind of like to see you come undone. It makes you a lot more human."

Sharon was desperate to put off making a decision concerning him and furrowed her brow, clutching at straws now. "Human?"

"You always look perfect, you're always in control right down to the smallest of gestures, you never raise your voice if you don't have to, Sharon, but that is not why I became attracted to you. It's curiosity, really. I know there's so much more that you are hiding behind that façade and I think I am enthralled both by the fact that you are able to do it and that you think you have to in the first place."

Sharon stared at him, dumbfounded. It was slowly dawning on her that Flynn was subtly telling her that it was not just physical attraction that he felt for her. He had been analyzing her behavior and had been thinking about the side of Sharon Raydor that she was hiding. That was nothing that would be considered by someone who thought she had hot legs and wanted to fuck her on a desk. It sounded a lot as if he actually cared about her. As if he was interested in the person that she was when she was not busy solving murders and leading a squad. Her mouth suddenly felt dry and she couldn't come up with anything to say to him that wouldn't have sounded stale.

Flynn smirked. "You see, it doesn't happen to me that often, Sharon. So I really have to be a little careful." His voice was light and didn't carry any trace of pathos but she knew instinctively that he was trying very hard to be reasonable about something that wasn't reasonable in the first place. Feelings never were, were they? She could tell from the look of him that he expected a reaction from her. She had been thinking on it almost all of last night and during her run this morning. Despite the fact that she had been trying to convince herself that it was a decision she had already made, she now realized that she had been considering it for a while now. Sharon might appear cold, but she wasn't blind. She had been sensing Andy Flynn's attraction to her before today and she had also known that it was not unrequited on her part. Now she was finally at the point where she couldn't deny it anymore. She swallowed again, still unsure what to say.

He was still silent but he had averted his gaze to give her a moment of respite, maybe even to collect himself in order to be able to react accordingly if she chose the rules over him. That was the choice she had to make, Sharon realized. So far, she had always chosen the rules but there had never been an alternative as tempting as this one. What if she said yes and things would go wrong? Would they ever be able to work alongside each other again? Would they bring their heartbreak to work and challenge each other professionally in order to get back at one another? Somehow she didn't think so. Andy Flynn was obviously able to be reasonable about his feelings. He could tell Sharon from Captain Raydor and knew when to talk to which. He was not pathetic or driven by his feelings. He knew how to ask for a decision without putting too much pressure on her. If only she had been sure that choosing the rules was the right thing and choosing him was the wrong one. In that case, either decision would have been easier to make. Choosing the rules would have felt right. Choosing Andy would have felt wrong enough to revel in it. But right now she suspected that it wasn't that easy. She had been alone for so long now. She had raised two children by herself and found herself now raising a third. Over the last twenty years she had engaged in the occasional affair but she found it difficult to find a man she liked in the first place. She had encountered a few over the past few years but none of them had also been able to make her feel safe. Realizing that your whole life was a lie and that your marriage was worth nothing in the eyes of your unfaithful husband had left its mark on her. But maybe it was time to finally free herself of her restraints. She knew she deserved some personal happiness in her life. She knew she was longing for something more than what she had. And denying herself that just because the man she liked and trusted happened to be on her squad seemed just as wrong as breaking the rules.

She didn't know how long she had been silent for but the sky was now orange, the sounds of traffic just a hum in the background. She had been so deeply immersed in her thoughts that it felt as if her surroundings were just coming back to her. The faint smell of this morning's stale coffee in the cup between them, the feeling of the console against her bare knee, the leather of her handbag sticking to her leg and the presence of the man beside her. Suddenly she felt assaulted by all the sensations around her, feeling more alive than she had been feeling in a while. Giving up control felt good, she realized. Maybe breaking the rules would feel even better?

She reached out for Andy's hand and covered it with hers. He turned his head to look at her again, an expectant gleam in his eyes.

"Can you give me some time to think on this?" she asked quietly, hoping that he would realize that it taking time didn't mean that she didn't care for him enough, but that the opposite was true. He looked disappointed for all but a moment, then nodded.

"Take your time, Sharon."

She smiled and reached up to tenderly stroke his cheek then snapped back.

"Sorry. Am I allowed to do that?" she asked, feeling both embarrassed and a little giddy.

"Not all the time and not in front of Taylor, I suppose."

She chuckled. "Thank you for being so patient with me, Andy."

He once again leaned in and kissed her very softly on the lips, then drew back and started the car without asking for her approval. They didn't say a word until they arrived in front of her apartment building. The sun had now fully set and they were enveloped in darkness for a moment before he switched on the interior lights.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow," he said and she straightened up, trying to look composed despite the fact that her legs felt like jelly. Sharon bowed her head in a futile attempt to maintain some professionalism between them and opened the car door, files in hand. Outside she put her hand on the car roof and leaned back down, smiling almost shyly.

"Good night, Andy. And thank you for the ride."

He grinned back. "Thank you, Sharon."

Sharon was pretty sure she was staggering when she walked towards the building, files pressed firmly against her chest as if to keep it from bursting. Only when she had reached the door, she heard his car driving off.

* * *

Rusty could tell that Sharon was completely and utterly jazzed by the way she dropped her files on the table in the hall and kicked off her shoes. A look at her face confirmed it. Her cheeks were flushed and the way she bit her lip told him that she was confused, to say the least.

"Hi Sharon!" he greeted her. Despite the fact that they were not in the habit of hugging, he felt like putting his arms around her. Knowing her as well as he did after having lived with her for months, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. Provenza's text had confirmed that she and Flynn had indeed overstepped their personal boundaries and the slightly haunted look in her eyes was proof of the fact that she had no idea how to deal with it. "I made you some dinner."

She smiled and put her hand on his shoulder. "That is sweet. I am starving."

"It's just pasta with chicken and pesto. There wasn't much in the fridge."

She walked towards the table and sat down in her usual spot. "That is just perfect, Rusty. I'll have to do some grocery shopping tomorrow." She ran a hand through her hair, giving off the impression that things as trivial as shopping seemed beyond her right now. Rusty could barely hide his grin as he placed a generously filled glass of wine in front of her. She raised an eyebrow and he shrugged.

"I know you don't drink every day but today looks like one of these days."

"Why does everyone suddenly know me so well?" she growled in mock-annoyance.

"What do you mean?" Rusty asked innocently as he put the filled plates on to the table.

"Never mind. How was your day?"

"Quiet," Rusty replied evenly. "How was yours?"

He was beginning to enjoy the devastated look on her face that had appeared quite frequently over the course of the last few minutes. She looked utterly confused. As if she was turning over the facts inside her head, wondering how much she was able to tell him. He debated confronting her with what he knew and suspected, but decided not to. Who knew what it would do to her right now. She certainly wasn't herself.

"Everyone seems suspicious at this point. We haven't really made any progress," she finally told him, then took a sip of her wine, obviously enjoying it tremendously. "Rusty, the food is delicious!"

He felt a warm feeling spreading through his stomach at the compliment. "Thanks."

They ate in silence for a moment before he decided to make his next move. "Say, Sharon, why did you split from your husband?"

She choked on a piece of chicken and coughed, reaching for her glass of water to take a large gulp from it.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to-"

She shook her head. "No, it's okay. If anyone is allowed to ask me personal questions, it's you. It's only fair that you know a little bit more about me." She smirked, obviously a little uncomfortable. Rusty felt truly sorry for putting her on the hot seat but he had wondered about that particular question for a while and he also felt it would be useful in order to see how much more she needed to be pushed to finally admit to herself that she had the hots for Flynn.

Sharon put down her fork and reached for her glass of wine, holding on to its handle as if clinging to a lifeline. This was difficult for her, he could see it very clearly.

"Well, Charles and I got married when we were very young. I was in college, he was already in law school. He was good-looking and very charming. The kind of guy that groups of girls passed giggling." She smiled at the memory. "I was always a little bookish and I wasn't really into parties but one of my friends, Barbara, dragged me along to one. He bought me a drink and we started talking. I was really impressed by his being in law school where both Barbara and I also wanted to go. He offered me to study for the test you have to take in order to get in and I said yes. Unfortunately I couldn't concentrate at all and I thought he must think I was completely stupid." She chuckled. "He either didn't or he liked it because he asked me out that night and we started dating. A year later, we got married and another two months later I was pregnant with Laura." She shook her head. "It was actually quite a shock because I had been planning on studying to become a lawyer. Needless to say I ended up choosing another profession."

Rusty was not as surprised as he could have been. Given her fondness of the rules, he could very well imagine her as a lawyer.

"Charles had just taken the bar exam when she was born and in the beginning, everything was perfect. He supported my decision to start working in the force and didn't try to talk me into staying home instead. Our financial situation also improved a lot as he was accepted into a prestigious law firm. Unfortunately, everyone there had a habit of working hard and playing hard. It was soon after he had started working there that he came home completely drunk one of those evenings. At first I didn't mind but when he started being home late every night, I tried to talk some reason into him." She sighed and reached out for her wine glass, then grabbed the water instead. "Then it all went down the drain. He was a criminal attorney and often represented our suspects so my colleagues at work knew him and his habits. That was also when he started sleeping with every woman who would have him." Rusty noticed that her jaw was suddenly set, indicating that thinking about it still upset her. "I had no idea at first and things seemed to look up a little when I got pregnant with James. Again, it wasn't planned and I was very nauseous and dizzy in the beginning so Charles was around more often to take care of me and Laura. After the first few months, however, it seemed to wear off and he went back to his old tricks. One night I was woken by voices downstairs and I found him on our couch with some blonde, making out. That was when I kicked him out. He tried to come back a few times but I'd had enough."

"Why didn't you get divorced?" Rusty asked, incredulous. He hadn't expected a story like that and thinking about the pain and embarrassment Sharon must have endured at the hands of her irresponsible husband made him angry as well as sad for her. She really did deserve someone who cared for her as her husband obviously hadn't.

She shrugged. "He didn't agree and I didn't feel strong enough to battle him in court at first. Mind you, I was still pregnant. Then the months and years went by and he moved away so I tried to forget about it. Legal separation was all I could come up without feeling too guilty. I always wondered whether there was anything I could have done to save that marriage instead of throwing him out when I first realized that he was being unfaithful. I am also a Catholic and we have a tendency to approach issues like that." She smirked.

"I noticed," Rusty said. "I like my school but really, the nuns are nuts."

She laughed, looking somehow relieved. "Now, there you know all about my love life. Romantic life story, isn't it?"

Rusty finished the last of his pasta and propped his elbows up on the table. "I am really sorry, Sharon," he said honestly. "You didn't deserve a hard life like that."

Sharon gave him a long look, smirking slightly. "Don't pity me now, Rusty. It wasn't always easy but I could have been much worse. And he gave me two beautiful children that I love very much. So I guess that's okay." She patted his hand when he remained looking stricken. "Don't worry about me."

"What do your kids think about the fact that I am living with you?" he finally asked the question that had been weighing on his mind for weeks. Now seemed a good moment to ask her. Sharon stood up and for a moment he worried that she was trying to avoid answering the question because the news were bad but she sat down in the chair next to him instead and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Rusty wasn't used to being touched like that by her or anyone else but it felt good, protective and gentle.

"Rusty, you have nothing to worry about. They were surprised at first but they are very eager to meet you now. So is my mother. To me, you already are part of my family and I am sure that they will feel the same way after Christmas."

He gave a tentative smile, still not quite convinced as things seemed a little too good to be true. "Why are you doing all this for me, Sharon?" he asked, not used to getting something without a price tag being attached to it. Sharon's open smile told him that she didn't have ulterior motives.

"At first I took you in because I didn't know what else to do, Rusty," she confessed. "but after a few days I began to care about you."

Rusty furrowed his brow. "Really? I was being such an ass to you."

She chuckled and put her hands on the table which made him immediately miss her arm around his shoulder.

"You were! But I meant what I said when I told you that I was used to ungrateful teenagers. You were hurting and I could see it, but I also knew that underneath that rude behavior was a smart and intelligent kid. You intrigued me, Rusty, and I like having you around." She rolled her eyes at a memory she relayed to him a moment later. "When you ran away from Andy, I almost cried at the office. It was mortifying. Even Lieutenant Provenza felt sorry for me."

"Really? What a shame!" Rusty grinned at her, feeling happiness well up at the thought that even when he had been at his worst, she had already cared for him. She really did not expect a reward in exchange for her love, he realized. Which meant that she was acting just like any good mother. Already feeling slightly foolish while about to do it, he reached out and embraced her tightly.

"Thank you, Sharon," he whispered when after a moment of surprise, Sharon hugged him back. When they came apart, Rusty felt a little ashamed at being as impulsive as that but the look on Sharon's face told him that he had made her happy somehow. Eager to change the subject, he adopted a cheeky grin. "Did you just call Lieutenant Flynn Andy?"

Sharon blushed almost immediately and Rusty couldn't help but chuckle. "Did I miss something?"

Sharon rose and reached for their plates. "When do you ever miss anything?" Rusty collected their glasses and followed her into the kitchen.

"Would you like to see another movie tonight?" he asked her but she turned towards him and shook her head with a mysterious little smile.

"Thank you, but I will pass. I am going to have a nice long bath tonight. There are some issues I need to think about."

"Really?" Rusty asked, a new plan already forming in his mind. "What kind of issues?"

Sharon gestured towards the open dishwasher for him to load and walked past him, brushing his shoulder with her hand. "Personal!" she called over her shoulder, one hand in the air.

Personal, right, Rusty thought to himself. He'd be damned if a certain silver-haired Lieutenant Andy didn't have anything to do with it. He reached for his phone and texted Provenza. Only a minute later, his phone beeped and he looked at the screen, stifling an amused laugh with his hand. Right under his "She's smitten." Provenza's answer had appeared "He just turned up on my doorstep. Can't form a single coherent sentence. Hate him a little."

He would be able to finish what he started, he thought to himself. And that was something that he really liked.


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

The result of the scents of lavender and vanilla mingling with each other was just as hypnotizing as Sharon's friend Barbara had promised when she had presented her with the bottle of bath essence. Moreover, Sharon enjoyed the rich violet color the water had turned and just the right amount of foam tickling her waist and knees when she slid into the hot water. She gave a satisfied moan when she leaned her head back against the towel she had placed there for comfort, reveling in the scent and the warmth for a moment. After a minute, she adjusted her body, wriggling her toes, to find just the right position to relax. It was dark outside and she had dimmed the lights over the sink, allowing the set of candles she had lit to cast a soft light over the bath, the reflection of the flames rippling on the water's surface. Sharon closed her eyes and allowed the events of the day to pass before her eyes. The comfortingly exhausting run. Flynn looking positively shaken at the sight of her all sweaty and breathless. The autopsy and the heartbreak it had caused her to see the young woman dead. The car ride that had somehow made them reveal their very fears and weaknesses to each other and the kiss. She touched her lips that were still a little sore from the second kiss that had not been as gentle and sweet as the first. Andy's angry entrance and the fierce protectiveness he had allowed to get the better of him. And their conversation in the car. It would always come down to their conversation in the car. The look in his eyes when he had told her that he had been dreading being alone with her for weeks. He had looked unsure, stricken and just a little bit ashamed.

Sharon decided not to spend too much time mulling over what the rules said and whether there was a loophole somewhere that might justify what they were probably about to do. She knew that even if there was one, she would still put her very position in the force in jeopardy. Sharon had never had a problem with putting her career first after she had spent so many years putting it second to her children. This time, however, she could not ignore how right things felt with Andy. Ever since she had lost her heart to a drinking, gambling lawyer who had been unfaithful to her, she had forced herself to approach love with the same rational she did everything else. That was probably why she had never really fallen in love again. She wasn't sure why she was suddenly so aware of her own shortcomings. Maybe it was Rusty, she thought. He had shown her how very important love was to a human being. They boy needed someone to love him as dearly as he needed to love someone and she had dived right into it without questioning her actions for even a moment. In that case, her maternal instincts had won over and she had not given a damn about the rules or her career. She had constantly been late to crime scenes when Rusty had still been in emergency care and even now she never managed to get as much done in the evenings as she used to. But she did not care. She knew that what she was doing was right and she was prepared to fight everyone tooth and nails if they dared interfere. The situation with Rusty had made her realize that rules were not pivotal to her because she cared so much about them. She complied with them because it made it easier to hide behind them. Somehow she didn't want to hide anymore. Charles might have broken her heart a long time ago but she wanted to move on.

Sharon felt better after having rationalized the whole situation in her head but she also felt vulnerable. As if she was about to cross a very deep canyon on a wire rope. She could not lose her balance now or she would be doomed. Sharon thought about what she liked about Andy Flynn. His honesty, the way he had been the only one to openly confront her when she had become the new head of Major Crimes. He had despised the idea of her succeeding Brenda Johnson just as much as everyone else but he had seemed to have enough respect to let her know instead of badmouthing her behind her back or sulking, like Provenza. He had also been the first one of them to accept her. She liked his resolve and the fact that he had managed to leave his alcoholism behind and battle the addiction to the point where he was very well aware of it and therefore able to keep it under control. When it came to that, he differed so much from Charles who didn't drink anymore but denied being an alcoholic to this day. Somehow she also adored his friendship with Provenza and the unbelievable situations they always ended up in. She liked the brooding stare when he was trying to solve a murder mystery inside his head and the open smile when he had succeeded. Most importantly, he made her feel safe. Not safe from the likes of Billy Smith but safe because she knew she could trust him and that he would have her back. And that he would immediately tell her if he didn't agree with something she did.

As she was in a bathtub and she could hear Rusty shuffling down the hall, she made an effort to ban all thoughts of her physical attraction to him but didn't quite succeed. Rationalizing that was almost impossible but she knew that kissing him was not enough. She wanted to untuck his shirt and get her hands all over his naked torso to feel the skin against her hands. Also, she wanted to know how it felt to have him on top of her, not just pressed against her. She wanted to be able to inhale his scent without fighting the dizziness that went along with it and she wanted to fall asleep and wake up enveloped in it. Before falling asleep, however, they would-

Her phone rang.

Sharon sat up with a start, feeling foolish and – surprisingly – guilty before anger set in. Was she ever off duty, she wondered, when she spotted Provenza's name on her iPhone's screen.

"Lieutenant," she answered curtly.

"Hey Captain, it's Provenza. I'm heading over to Miss Dawson's home right now. Apparently Billy Smith showed up on her doorstep and assaulted her."

Sharon sighed inwardly and rose from the warm bath with a great deal of regret.

"I'll be right there. Text me the address."

She pulled her foot from the water, stirring it noisily.

"Is that water I hear in the background?" Provenza asked smoothly and she rolled her eyes despite the fact the he wasn't there to see it.

"Bathtub," she said curtly. "And also none of your business. See you."

She hung up, annoyed, and went to grab a towel.

Provenza disconnected the call and dropped his phone in his lap, then noisily pulled the remains of his coke through the straw, grabbing a handful of cold fries from the paperbag of McDonald's that was sitting in his lap.

"Be careful not to mess up my car," Flynn told him pointedly, earning an amused chuckle as Provenza resumed his noisy eating and drinking, grinning to himself. At least this time he refrained from commenting on the sorry state of Flynn's car. It was clean, however, just a little old and battered and Flynn liked it too much to get rid of it before it fell apart or it became to expensive to fix.

"You know," Provenza said conversationally. "Guess Raydor's going to be pissed when she arrives. She was just taking a bath when I called."

Flynn was acutely aware of his friend's eyes on his face so he adopted a neutral expression that he hoped would not give away the fact that he was assaulted by images of his superior officer climbing naked from a bathtub. A small tingling inside his stomach accompanied any thoughts of her nowadays but now it was even stronger as it was fueled by both excitement and a little fear. He could understand that she needed some time to consider and it also gave him hope that she would decide to give him a chance. But if she didn't, he would have to go back to treating her like any other superior officer and the mere thought of that made his heart sink. Over the past two days he had seen a lot more of what he had always suspected was buried somewhere underneath all the professionalism. He had started to see her in a different light when Rusty had gone missing from his watch. Next to all the guilt and anger he had been feeling, an interesting stir of endearment had surprised him. He had even found himself feeling the urge to run after her and comfort her after she had abruptly excused herself, very clearly about to cry. Now he had heard her giggle, seen her fidget, had put her in a very aroused state, kissing him senseless. He didn't want to go back to ignoring that Sharon and he also really wanted to see her inside that bathtub. Maybe even reach out his hand and-

"Dirty thoughts," Provenza said darkly. "Concentrate on the road or you will get us both killed."

Flynn shook his head, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Sometimes I feel like you're the annoying wife I've been married to for entirely too long."

Provenza gave a bark of laughter. "As if someone would ever stay married to me for long!"

His GPS announced the fact that they had just arrived at their destination and Flynn could see the flashing blue lights of a black and white police cruiser that were reflected in the dark downstairs windows of the Exorcist Girl's apartment building. His heart jumped a little when he spotted a familiar silver car parked just in front of the police tape.

"Damn, she was quick. Wonder whether she had time to dress," Provenza joked, then grimaced. "I sure hope she did."

Flynn decided not to grace Provenza's utterance with an answer and got out of the car, striding into the direction of the house without waiting for his less physically able partner. Sharon was talking to a uniformed cop in the same dress she had been wearing all day, her hair tousled and her jacket unbuttoned. She turned around when she heard him approach and gave him a smile that went far beyond the usual clipped little smirk she greeted the squad members with at crime scenes.

"You made it quickly," he said. "Is Miss Dawson okay?"

She shrugged. "My apartment is close. Miss Dawson seems to be fine. I am afraid the same cannot be said about Mr. Smith." She raised her eyebrows slightly. "He's dead."

They started walking towards the building and Flynn raised the police tape for her to duck through earning an annoyed yelp from Provenza when he dropped it again, right on top of his partner's head. Fortunately Provenza knew better than comment on Flynn's clumsiness in front of its cause and just followed them at arm's length, grumbling to himself. There was a very distinct scent wafting off Sharon and Flynn thought he could smell lavender mixed with something sweeter. She ran a hand through her hair and he wished he could do it for her and gently disentangle the strands. If she decided not to start seeing him, he knew, being around her would be even more unbearable than it was now. At least for a while. Deep down, he dreaded it like nothing else.

Liza Dawson's apartment was more of a bedsit consisting only of one large room with a daybed, large wardrobe and a small round table, two doors leading towards a small kitchenette and bathroom to their right. By one of the doors, right next to the table, Billy Smith lay facedown, a knife protruding from his back. The cream colored carpet underneath him was soaked with dark red blood that also covered Liza Dawson's hands. She looked different without her costume, more fragile and a lot prettier. Her hair seemed to be naturally straight and soft and framed a face that looked heart-shaped with porcelain skin when it wasn't covered in green make-up. She was wearing pink pajamas that fit in well with the pink fabrics and stuffed animals strewn around the room, shivering uncontrollably. Next to her on the bed was Sykes, awkwardly trying her best to comfort her. She looked up with relief written all over her face when they entered.

"Captain! Lieutenants!" She jumped off the bed and startled Liza in the process then quickly approached Raydor. Flynn remembered Provenza shaking his head and proclaiming that Sykes had the biggest lady crush on Raydor that he had ever seen. Like every man, Flynn was to some extent fascinated by the idea of two women getting it on but the thought of Sharon and Sykes sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. There had always been a certain chemistry between her and Chief Johnson, however. He remembered the guys joking about it over a drink after work with a weird gleam in their eyes. Flynn wasn't sure whether Provenza was right and Sykes' behavior really meant that she idolized Sharon. He was still a little suspicious of her and wondered whether she was just sucking up to the boss.

"Miss Dawson called 911 herself. Apparently Mr. Smith knocked on her door about an hour ago and when she answered the door just pushed past her and acted maniacally, threatening her and trying to strangle her with his bare hands. She grabbed a knife from her kitchen counter and stabbed him while he was reaching for the one on the table."

"Stab wound in the back doesn't really look like self-defense," Raydor said in a very low voice, casting a furtive look at Liza Dawson. Sykes remained standing next to Provenza and Flynn, looking slightly standoffish, when the Captain walked off without asking her further, sitting down on the bed next to Liza. Flynn watched her arrange her feet on the floor and steady herself on the soft mattress with one hand.

"How does she always look so elegant?" Sykes murmured next to him, blushing slightly when he grinned.

"Seventy years of practice," Provenza growled, arms crossed defiantly in front of his chest. There wasn't much to do at the scene as crime scene technicians were already beginning to cram their equipment into the tiny apartment while Buzz was filming the body. If Dawson's story checked out, it was a pretty clear case of self-defense.

"I bet he was high as a kite," Provenza said in a low voice. "Seemed a little off when Raydor interviewed him yesterday."

Flynn rolled his eyes. "A little off? He assaulted a police officer!"

"And that particular one, at that!" Provenza said in a sarcastic tone. Andy felt his own face darken. Enough was enough. Even Provenza had to realize that there was a point of no return. He cleared his throat and gestured for the door. "Can I talk to you in private for a moment?"

They left the apartment and a curious Sykes and met up in the empty hallway, passing half-opened apartment doors from behind which neighbors were peeking curiously to catch some piece of information or another. Flynn lead them towards the stairwell for some privacy and stood, arms crossed. Provenza perched on the narrow window sill and gave him an expectant look. Flynn held the silence for a moment, studying his best friend's face in the dim light, inhaling the stale air that smelled of cleaning supplies for courage. It wasn't easy to talk to Provenza about this. They were men after all; they only talked to each other about feelings if it was absolutely unavoidable.

"You have to stop the constant innuendo in front of everyone!" he told his friend with an edge in his voice that he had not intended to slip into it. "You've told me to stay away from Captain Raydor yesterday and I get it. Your little banter doesn't make this any easier."

Confronted with his own shortcomings, Provenza usually opted to be defensive but today he softened and shook his head ruefully. "I am sorry, Andy. Just having a little fun on your expense." His reaction stole Andy's thunder and he leaned back against the wall with a defeated sigh.

"I get it. Just stop, okay? It's hard enough as it is." He could see from the gleam in Provenza's eyes that he was restraining himself from remarking on Andy's choice of adjective in conjunction with Sharon Raydor and he felt a little grateful when his partner just shrugged and then looked away. Now he was in deep enough to hear his partner's demented jokes inside his head before he could even voice them!

"Do you think she would make you happy?" Provenza asked uncharacteristically softly. Flynn didn't believe his ears. Even between them, heart to hearts were usually out of the question. They were close, yes, but they preferred spending their time chasing women and watching baseball, not pour their hearts out to each other.

"I'd like to think so," he replied awkwardly, not sure what Provenza expected him to say or whether he would jump up and down and make fun of his solemnness in a minute.

"I am worried." Provenza admitted poutfully, spitting out the words like rotten food. He looked absolutely uncomfortable in the conversation he had initiated himself so Flynn thought it wiser not to interrupt him. "I heard some things about her and I'm not sure she won't break your heart because it's easier being Darth Raydor and all." Provenza was talking quickly now, apparently eager to get it all over with. Despite himself, Flynn grinned.

"Are you saying that you are acting out of concern for me?" he asked with fake surprise.

"Don't make this any harder on me!" Provenza snapped.

"It's okay. I get it. But we've been talking today. I told her that I would like something more and she asked me for some time to think about it."

Provenza raised his eyebrows. "Something more?" he echoed. "As in rip her clothes off and have your way with her? I can't believe she didn't shoot you in the head for that."

Andy rolled his eyes. "That's not what I said. I told her that she means something to me." He was beginning to feel just as uncomfortable having this conversation as his friend was but he knew that he had to tell him the truth. "I am in love with her." When Provenza's eyes widened in shock, he raised a hand. "I said I am in love. I didn't say I love her. That's a difference."

"When did that happen and why didn't you tell me?" Provenza roared.

"Because I only realized it myself today and because I knew that you would react like this," Flynn told him calmly while he was beginning to find the absurdity of the situation amusing. If he was honest, he had to say that he had only realized it the moment he had voiced it.

"Really, Andy! I thought we were over that whole love and marriage thing. Yours failed, mine failed. I thought we'd go out chasing women together and not calling them back forever. And there you go and fall in love! I thought if you could just get her laid and get her out of your system things would go back to normal."

Andy groaned when realization dawned on him. It was Provenza's belated midlife-crisis again. His friend was afraid of losing him to a relationship that was a little more serious than the occasional fling he'd enjoyed over the past few years. Provenza looked ashamed of his outburst and made to push past his friend, murmuring something about having to get back to the crime scene.

"Louis." Provenza froze. The usage of his first name never bode well. He turned around slowly.

"Yes?"

Andy knew that Provenza would cringe at a heartfelt speech on how much he meant to him and that he would never put a woman first when it came to his best friend in the world. He needed to say it in only a few words that would still make Provenza understand.

"She'd never know how to appreciate Skybox tickets!" he said in an angry tone. Provenza's face softened and he adjusted his tie, suddenly grinning.

"Of course she wouldn't," he replied grudgingly.

* * *

Sharon waited for Flynn and Provenza by the apartment door, tapping her foot, Sykes by her side. When they approached, she motioned towards the exit with her head. Once outside, they stood in a circle, huddling together against the cool night air.

"We'll have to wait for the results of the blood test but I am pretty sure he was high on something," Raydor explained.

"He killed his girlfriend and now he comes back to kill the other girl, too," Provenza said. "Sounds like a solid case to me."

"Pin the murder on the dead man?" Sykes asked. "That's a little too easy if you ask me."

Provenza glared daggers at her, then turned back towards Raydor. Noticing the skeptic expression on her face, he tilted his head to the side in annoyance.

"Oh no. Not you, too."

Sharon raised her chin and narrowed her eyes, indicating for him not to probe her further. "I am still suspicious of Liza Dawson. More than ever, actually. Nobody has made an effort, yet, to research her background, see if her story of her and Anna being best friends checks out, I take it?"

The others sheepishly shook their heads, Provenza inspecting his shoes. "Alright. You, Lieutenant Provenza, will attend Mr. Smith's autopsy in the morning along with Detective Sykes." The younger woman turned a distinct shade of green. "Have Tao talk to Sullivan again to ask him about the girls' relationship. I'll tell Sanchez to be his charming self and interview Dawson again. She's on her way to the hospital now but I sent a uniform to watch her so she can't get away. You and I, Lieutenant Flynn, are going to pay that drama school a visit in the morning. Any questions?"

Provenza had been right. Raydor seemed even stricter and more determined than usual, eager to get the evening over with in order to be able to go home, Flynn thought. A second later, she confirmed his suspicion: "Now, are we done here? I have a teenager to get home to." The others nodded obediently. She folded her hands behind her back in the way she sometimes did and leaned forward slightly. "Detective Sykes, would you mind dropping Lieutenant Provenza off at home? I need to have a word with Lieutenant Flynn," she said coldly. Sykes and Provenza looked at each other like two kids that had been set up a play date by their mothers despite the fact that they openly despised each other. Sykes murmured something affirmative while Provenza shot Flynn an accusing glare as if he was somehow responsible for Raydor's decisions now that he had admitted to having feelings for her. The odd couple shuffled off, leaving Flynn alone with Raydor who gestured towards his car to allow for more privacy.

"Are you okay with us being assigned to each other for tomorrow?" she asked calmly.

"You make it sound as if someone other than you assigned us to it," Flynn answered evasively, causing her to frown.

"That was a yes or no question."

"I'll give you a yes or no question, Sharon. Are you aware of the fact that you could have wondered about that before you assigned me to you?"

She raised her eyebrows but he could see that she was not angry but a little surprised instead. Flynn was amused by the realization that she had just paired them up without actually considering his feelings. He liked to think that it meant that she was leaning towards giving in to him as she was not exactly avoiding him. He crossed his arms, regarding her with a dark look that did not give the lightness of his mood away. He could see that she was nervous despite her attempts to hide it.

"What is it?" she demanded in a steely voice.

He pretended to study her, all the while wondering where his cocky attitude suddenly came from. He didn't want to be the puppy Provenza had accused him of being just yesterday, he realized. He was all about giving Sharon the time she needed but he could also have a little fun with her while she kept him hanging on her word.

"Captain Raydor," he said coolly. "Your hair is a mess."

She gasped at his rude remark and blanched slightly but did not wince when he reached out and finally gave in to the urge to disentangle the unruly strands of hair and smooth them down, brushing her cheek in the process. "That's better. Don't forget that the head of Major Crimes should always look impeccable."

She recovered from the shock more quickly than he had ever imagined and gave her head a slight shake, reminding him of how she had once looked after firing a beanbag gun at a suspect. He recognized too late that she was trying to hide a triumphant smirk. She slowly stepped towards him and raised her chin, standing so close to him that he could feel her breath on his own chin.

"I have another yes or no question for you," she said in a quiet voice of which he could not tell whether it sounded menacing or seductive.

"Do you?" he asked arrogantly, not taking his eyes off hers. She pursed her lips slightly and raised her chin, looking at him over the rim of her glasses with a predatory smile beginning to curl her lips.

"Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow after work?"

"Uh-oh. Looks like the Lieutenant is receiving an earful from his boss," one of the two cops guarding the crime scene munched through his donut, making his partner crane his neck to see the woman standing in front of the man, looking up at him with a hard stare.

"I heard she's quite something, that Captain Raydor. Can scare a grown man right to death with a single look."

"I can imagine it!" He licked sugar from his fingers, causing his partner to give an annoyed grunt. "Look how he's smiling all nicely to get into her good graces again. And nodding his head like 'Yes, Captain Raydor. Everything you want, Captain Raydor.'"

They laughed good-naturedly and turned away from the scene, thereby missing something that would have made for several weeks of gossiping by the water cooler. Satisfied with Andy Flynn's affirmative answer, Sharon gave him a professional little smile and breezed past him towards her own car. At the very last minute, Flynn reached out and grabbed her hand to stop her. Sharon turned around slowly, unable to hide her excited smile when he grabbed her around the waist and gently moved her to stand with her back to the car where they could not be seen from the house or the two uniformed cops' vantage point. He leaned in slowly, making sure that his leg was between hers and their upper bodies touched before he finally bent down and kissed her until she let out a low moan of pleasure. Despite the pang of desire that went through him, Flynn drew back and courteously helped her step away from the car.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow morning then, Captain Raydor," he said in a detached professional voice and went around his car to the driver's door, casually glancing at her before he opened the door and sat down inside it. Sharon was smiling and turned around, making a show of slowly walking to her car, her hips swaying in the tight dress.

Flynn was sure that he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

**A/N**: This story is coming to an end in a few chapters but fear not, as I have the entire sequel already mapped out in my head. I'm such an addict to Major Crimes and Mary. ;-) Thank you again for the great support this story receives. It makes me all kinds of happy!


	9. Chapter 9

**9**

Rusty walked into the kitchen where Sharon was sitting at the table, devouring a meager breakfast consisting of some fruit with yogurt and sipping a large cup of coffee while scanning the paper. He knew her well enough to spot the subtle differences in her appearance. Her hair looked a little curlier, her shade of lipstick a little bit darker and the suit she was wearing was at all kinds of odds with the Darth Raydor image as the navy skirt was as short as possible when trying to still look businesslike and the striped blouse underneath the matching jacket was a little tighter than usual, the top button casually undone. Rusty usually didn't care to dwell on his foster mother's choice of clothes, but today he could not prevent a grin from spreading across his face. Something was up.

"Good morning, Sharon!" he greeted her, dropping his book bag on to the floor next to his chair, helping himself to a cup of coffee. She looked up at him over the rim of her glasses and smiled faintly, uncrossing her legs.

"Good morning, Rusty. Did you sleep well?" she asked him as she did every morning. Somehow, the question never sounded like casual conversation and so Rusty assumed that she was actually interested in his answer.

"Pretty well, thanks. You were home late last night, weren't you?"

She nodded with a rueful smile. "I didn't mean to wake you." She rose from her seat at the table and methodically picked up the remains of her breakfast, then placed the dishes into the dishwasher. Rusty threw a casual glance at her shoes and found that she had traded her usual elegant but still somewhat reasonable heels in for a pair of unusually high heeled navy pumps that went very well with her outfit. Rusty didn't know much about fashion but he knew instinctively that Sharon was dressed to impress. And not in the way she usually was.

"So," he said casually. "What are you up to at work today?"

She turned around and grabbed her handbag to deposit her phone inside it.

"Lieutenant Flynn and I are heading for a drama school today to investigate a suspect's background," Sharon told him without fully meeting his eyes, causing Rusty to grin slyly.

"Lieutenant Flynn, really? What a coincidence."

Her head snapped up and she narrowed her eyes at him, which usually meant that one had to be careful, but Rusty knew that she was just trying to keep up appearances. There was no question anymore as to why she was dressed the way she was and he felt a definite sense of accomplishment. If he'd known that it was that easy to get these two to hit it off, he would have done it months ago.

"Is he picking you up?" he asked, checking his watch and she nodded, revealing a smile that was accompanied by a slight shrug that told Rusty that she must be excited. Sharon was usually always composed and slightly intimidating but today he found her almost cute. Somehow he felt like he needed to let her know that she had no reason to hide her budding romance from him as he wholeheartedly supported it but he did not know how to tell her without putting any pressure on her. Before he could decide on a course of action, her phone buzzed and she straightened up, gathering her handbag and coat.

"That was Andy, he's waiting downstairs for me. Your lunch money's on the table in the hall. Call me if anything comes up, okay?"

He nodded obediently, knowing that it would just be another normal day at school and there would probably be no need to call her about anything. Sharon hesitated, looking flustered for a second before she stepped closer to him and reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from his face. He could see that she was both unsure and nervous and wondered what on earth might be the matter. Then she leaned in and very gently kissed his forehead, only able to reach that far up because of her high heels. He felt her warm lips pressed against his skin and her hand caressing his shoulder and he could not remember the last time anyone had displayed so much concern and tenderness for him. She gave him an awkward little smile that told him that she wasn't sure whether he wanted her to act like this around him and so he put his hand on her arm in response.

"Have a nice day, Sharon," he said. "and you look very beautiful today. I am sure Lieutenant Flynn will like it."

She blushed furiously and turned away to hide her shame but he held on to her arm, grinning slightly.

"Be good," he said, fully aware of the double-meaning, and she broke into a wide grin.

"That's the mom's line but you too, Rusty."

He felt like hugging her goodbye but decided that it would be too much yet and so he retreated into the kitchen to grab his lunch bag. She gave a slight wave and walked out, leaving Rusty behind. Her foster son smiled, wondering what the day might bring for her and, eventually, for him.

* * *

Sharon felt slightly stupid for being nervous when she approached Andy Flynn's battered old car and opened the passenger's door to climb in. Once inside, she turned towards him and gave him a half-smile, feeling slightly awkward after the previous night's events. He looked rested in a fresh suit and tie and with the usual smile on his face so she could not resist and leaned over to press her lips to his in greeting. He did not deepen the kiss but brought his hand up to brush her cheek instead. They came apart after only a second but were both grinning like idiots.

"We can't do this at work," she said.

"Oh god, no," he replied, pretending to be scandalized, and started the car. After a short pause, he turned towards her again. "I could kill a coffee right now. How about you?"

The drive to the cheesily named Celluloid Dreams Drama School didn't take long and they busied themselves with sipping their coffees and talking about the previous night's crime scene. Both were still unsure how to properly separate their private and professional life so now that the clock was running, they went back to acting as if nothing had ever happened between them. They loosened up a bit when they got into a slight professional argument about whether Liza Dawson's background was worth investigating since Flynn remained firmly rooted in the opinion that Sullivan had been the killer while Sharon begged to differ.

Flynn's car groaned as if in pain when he stopped it in the school's parking lot and Sharon grinned slightly.

"Maybe next time we should take my-" she began.

"Don't go there," he shot her a dark look that made her laugh and she raised her hands in mock defensiveness. They walked to the admissions building so closely side by side that Sharon's handbag bumped into Flynn's side several times. She looked unbelievable in that suit, he thought, but decided to tell her later when they were officially off work and on for dinner. He needed to remember that she was Captain Raydor right now. His superior officer that he could not touch, let alone kiss.

The school's dean was expecting them so that they didn't expect to have to wait long in the small waiting area with the bright yellow walls that would have reminded Andy of a doctor's office if not for the autographed headshots that adorned every available space. Instead of sitting down, Sharon walked towards the window and looked out into the parking lot towards the building that provided student housing. He joined her there and followed her gaze, not noticing anything important there. Somehow, the fact that they were both professionals who knew how to behave around each other in this situation made it even more difficult to deny the crackling electricity between them. She smirked up at him and turned slightly.

"Have you thought about where we could go to dinner tonight?" she asked in a low, calm voice that lacked the seductive quality of the one she had adopted just the previous night but still sounded warm.

"I thought you were the one who was taking me out," he deadpanned, then eventually broke into a grin. "Just kidding. I know a nice little restaurant by the beach. Do you like Italian?"

"I love Italian," she replied, turning her head slightly but never breaking their gaze. In his head, Flynn counted the hours until they would be off duty and it seemed as if it were entirely too many. He turned away from her and walked towards one of the framed black and white pictures, pretending to study it. The door opened and the bored-looking secretary gestured for them to follow her.

The dean was a tall and undeniably handsome man with a shock of white hair, wearing an expensively tailored suit and a professional smile. He looked a lot more like a lawyer or businessman than a dean to a drama school. Then again, the school was quite expensive so maybe he was indeed in charge of a lot of money. He greeted Sharon and Andy in turn, revealing an expensive watch under the pristine white cuff of his dress shirt when he reached out his hand to shake theirs. They declined the offer of coffee and took their seats in front of his mahogany desk that seemed oddly misplaced in the simple office that otherwise contained gray standard filing cabinets adorned with sickly plants and came equipped with a dark gray felt carpet that effectively swallowed even the sounds of Sharon's heels.

Sharon casually glanced at the name plate on the desk, once again proving her restricted ability to remember names, and bowed her head slightly when she spoke.

"Mr Russell, as I told you over the phone we're here to inquire about Miss Liza Dawson who used to be one of your students."

The man nodded and Andy noticed his very clear blue eyes. He estimated that he was about sixty with the charms of an accomplished gentleman. Maybe he had been an actor himself, once, he mused. He certainly had the looks it took.

"I had my secretary track down her file. As my position is largely an administrative one, I rarely know the students personally. So I have rely on our meager documentation. It is mostly grades and payments." He rested his hand on top of a simple blue folder. "Unfortunately I can't just hand it over to you." He actually sounded regretful and smiled at Sharon, sliding the folder slightly towards himself. "So why don't you just ask me the proper questions and I tell you what I am free to say?"

Sharon leaned back slightly in her chair and folded her arms, still looking relaxed. "Miss Dawson told us that she used to share a dormitory with her best friend Anna Miles who was also a student here. Is that true?"

Russell nodded. "Yes, it is in her file. They shared a room during their first year here. At the beginning of the second, however, Miss Miles requested a transfer."

Sharon's and Andy's gazes met. "Did she state a reason?" Andy asked.

Russell leaved through the file and shrugged. "If she did, it has not been added to Miss Dawson's file. I'll tell Marla to get Miss Miles' file also. It might take some time, though. Would you care to have a look around in the meantime? I could give you a tour." He tilted his head slightly towards Sharon who looked impatient at the dismissal and crossed her legs, creating the impression that she was there to stay. Russell would have to learn the hard way that she was the one to decide when an interview was over. "Is there anything else you can tell us about Liza?"

Russell flipped through the file and shrugged. "Good grades. She's talented. Graduated a year ago."

"Are there any students still here who might remember her?" Andy asked.

"I suppose so. Freshmen and Seniors live in the same building so there are probably people who've studied with her. Students are all in class right now but you could drop by some. As we are a small institute, there are only-" He consulted a colorful chart on his desk. "five courses in session right now. I think we might like to try Mrs Davish's class. She is in the building next door, ground floor right to your left when you cross the entrance hall. I can show you there."

Despite the fact that Andy had been the one to answer the question, Russell was clearly addressing Sharon. Somehow Andy suspected that it wasn't due to the fact that Sharon was Captain and he was Lieutenant. Sharon, too, seemed to have noticed the older man's obvious interest in her knees under the relatively short skirt and gave him the coldest Raydor glare Andy could remember seeing recently.

"Thank you, Mr Russell. We won't keep you any longer. Lieutenant Flynn and I will find our own way. Thank you very much." She gave him a clipped smile and walked out. Andy followed her, all the while suppressing a grin at Russell's sheepish look. Outside, he had trouble keeping up with her fast pace.

"The poor guy would have really liked to give you a tour!" he grinned, finding it safe to joke about it as he would have done so, too, if it hadn't been her but Sykes instead. She turned and raised her brows, looking slightly frustrated.

"He reminded me of my husband whom I prefer to spend as little time with as possible." Her mouth was set in a straight line which left Andy wondering just how good-looking her husband was. Sharon did not slow her pace and he found it best not to talk to her. The building that housed the class rooms didn't possess any more charm than the administrative space. With sets of lockers lining the walls and linoleum squeaking beneath their feet, it very much had all the charm of a high school. The air was a little stale and smelled of sweat and desperation, or so Andy liked to think. With her expensive suit and tasteful frames, Sharon looked completely out of place here. At least she seemed to have recovered from the encounter with the dean and slowed down, craning her neck to look around.

"This is not very artsy. I imagined something different," she murmured thoughtfully, then put her hand on his arm. "He said to the left, didn't he?"

"He did." Flynn led the way down a corridor whose walls were once again painted in the now sickeningly cheerful shade of yellow, sporting more autographs.

"Kevin Costner," Sharon snorted in recognition. "I doubt that he went to a drama school at all."

Flynn raised both eyebrows in surprise. "I think he's a good actor!"

"Ha! Name one good movie he was in!" Sharon challenged, a slight grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Dances with Wolves?" Flynn offered to which he received the infamous eye roll.

"Seriously? That love story was obnoxious." Talking to her about movies was as surreal as it was amusing.

"Why? The girl was hot."

Sharon who was now two steps ahead of Flynn stopped and turned around, whisking her hair over her shoulder in the process. She was doing it for effect, he was sure.

"That's all men ever think about," she complained, her hand already on the doorknob. "And for the record," she pursed her lips. "you have questionable taste in women." She narrowed her eyes slightly as if she had just realized what her statement implied, then shook her head and opened the door.

* * *

"Could you at least try not to look that smug?" Flynn groaned, casting another sidewards glance at Sharon who was sitting upright in her chair, legs crossed elegantly her hands folded on her right knee, wriggling her fingers slightly. He had to admit that the grin on her face suited her.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She reached up to brush back a strand of hair then leaned her head back against the headrest, grinning brightly now. "Maybe you could walk me through it again."

Flynn was secretly amused but still pretended to be angry. "I mean the fact that you finally have a proper reason to suspect the Exorcist Girl now. I mean besides the fact that she looks scary as hell with that green face."

"Oh yeah, that," Sharon said nonchalantly.

He turned his head towards her and gave her a dark stare. "You have pretty good hunches for someone from Internal Affairs."

She raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you hear? I am with Major Crimes now."

"So that's why you are in our interview room?" he asked before he threw a casual glance at his watch. It had taken them quite a while before they had found a student who knew more about Anna and Liza than just the casual rumor and it was now already past four. Three hours at maximum, he reckoned, and they would be able to leave this place to share plates of antipasti, good conversation and the occasional kiss at the small but excellent trattoria he had discovered a few months ago. Red and white checkered cotton tablecloths, the taste of merlot on her lips – but only there – and Maria, the owner's, cheerful nature would allow for them to be Andy and Sharon for once and he couldn't wait.

"Lieutenant Flynn?" Sharon asked sharply, motioning towards the red light on the table that indicated that the camera feed was now working and their interactions could be witnessed by anyone who was currently in the monitor room.

"Sorry, Captain. I was just thinking about some errands I have got to run tonight."

"Tell me about it," she said evenly, then rose and pulled down her jacket in a fluid motion when Liza Dawson was brought into the room. She gestured towards the chair on the other side of the interview table and waited for the younger woman to sit down. She looked fragile and slightly unkempt in her casual slacks and white long-sleeve whose sleeves she had pulled over her hands despite the fact that it wasn't cold. Sharon took off her glasses and laid a hand on Andy's arm.

"Maybe you remember Lieutenant Flynn," she explained and took off her glasses, glancing at Liza with a sympathetic look that seemed even more so as she needed to blink in order to focus her vision. Sharon wasn't extremely myopic but whenever she wore her glasses for longer amounts of time and then took them off, her vision became blurred. She tended to feel rather defenseless without them so she usually only took them off when she was about to let her guard down. Today, however, it was part of her strategy.

"Sorry about having you brought here like that, Liza. You can't be feeling well. Would you like a cup of coffee or a soda maybe?"

She blinked at the other woman again to try and appear both a little out of it and cute. The latter wasn't usually in her repertoire, at least not willingly. Her children seemed to think otherwise whenever she failed to get one of their jokes or when she was once again surprised and shocked by something her iPhone could do, but in public she was quite able to keep up appearances. She put her glasses back on her nose to be able to assess Liza's reaction and was satisfied to find her in a seemingly relaxed state.

"No, thanks, Captain Raydor," she said.

"Now, Miss Dawson," Andy said in a critical tone. "I would like to talk some more about the day your friend Anna was murdered." He sounded blunt and uncaring and Raydor could see the effect it had on Liza. Her hands came up to grab her upper arms and her brows came closer together. She didn't trust Flynn, Raydor could see it.

"Please, Andy," she said very softly. "don't rush this."

Andy growled slightly. "There is no need to be taking this slowly. Miss Dawson, we found Anna's diary and it states clearly that she was pretty damn scared of you. Can you tell us why that was?"

Sharon adopted a slightly embarrassed smile and patted Liza's hand. "He makes it sound very incriminating but we just need to follow any lead, you know?"

She could see the good cop bad cop game take effect already because the girl's eyes were darting from Sharon's sympathetic expression to Andy's tightly set jaw with a great deal of uncertainty. She liked that look on him despite the fact that it was an act. It gave his face a hard edge that made a sharp contrast to his usually pleasant smile. She found it alluring somehow.

"Sharon, seriously. We talked about this. It _is _very incriminating!" Andy snapped at her, physically distancing himself from her. He bore his eyes into the young woman's and narrowed them predatorily. "You wanted her all to herself, didn't you? And when Billy Smith snatched her away from you, you went wild. Case closed!" He clapped his hands, making both Sharon and Liza wince with shock.

"You two were very close, weren't you?" Sharon asked softly.

Liza, completely confused by the mixed signals she was receiving from her two interrogators, nodded slowly. "She was my best friend," she said in a small voice that almost made Sharon's heart go out to her.

"Best friend, really? Why did she ask to be allowed to move to another dorm room one year before the two of you graduated from drama school, then? Is that what best friends do?" Flynn barked.

Tears were now brimming in Liza's eyes and she brought her hand up to wipe them from her cheeks. "We had a fight and she left," she said quietly.

"What kind of fight?" Flynn demanded but Sharon silenced him with an annoyed huff. She gave him her best death glare and then turned back towards their suspect with a sympathetic smirk.

"Men just don't understand the dynamics of female relationships, do they?" she said. "My best friend and I had lots of crises, too. It just happens."

"Did you?" Liza asked, choking. Sharon didn't feel comfortable bringing her private life into this interview where her whole squad could listen in so she decided to tell another true story that didn't involve her best friend Barbara but someone else she felt oddly close to. If she wanted to gain this young woman's confidence, she had to appear vulnerable.

"My friend Brenda and I have gone through a lot together. We used to have lots of quarrels but we're fine, now." She could hear Flynn make a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle and then turned into a coughing fit she was sure was faked.

Liza grabbed a paper tissue and dabbed at her eyes with it. "Anna was fed up one day. She felt that we were too close and left. She didn't talk to me for weeks." She was crying in earnest now and Sharon had to remind herself that she was talking to a suspect and not just to a frightened young girl. And she was not just any suspect. The things she and Flynn had learned about Liza's past were more than just a little disturbing.

"How can you be too close to a girlfriend?" Sharon asked with forced cheer in her voice.

Liza shook her head. "I don't know either. She said I never let her go anywhere on her own and that one time she caught me checking her phone for text messages."

So she had acted like a jealous boyfriend. Sharon shrugged, pretending to find this breach of confidence not the least bit offensive. "I hate it when Brenda hangs out with these other people all the time." She could imagine the rest of her squad laughing their heads off at the mention of Chief Johnson's name. Little did they know that Sharon and Brenda were now not only civil but had actually become something like friends. Brenda regularly checked in to inquire about the state of her old squad and Sharon was more than happy to indulge her. Now that they were not fighting about jurisdiction anymore, they had actually discovered some common ground.

"Don't you?" Liza's eyes lit up with recognition. "She was trying to meet new people and it just hurt so much."

"You locked Anna in a bathroom for hours when she wanted to go out with friends. That's what you call friendship?" Flynn chimed in, voice still dripping with accusation. He had the bad cop role down to an art.

Liza was crying in earnest now, her pretty eyes swimming with tears. Sharon was still well aware of the slightly maniacal gleam behind the moisture.

"Oh, you did?" she asked, feigning concern. "You must have felt awful about her hanging out with Billy so much! That must have really hurt."

Liza nodded, gathering the tissues Sharon was handing her over the table in her hands to noisily blow her nose. "She didn't want anything to do with me anymore," she sobbed. "I applied for work in that Haunted House because I wanted to be close to her and she still avoided me. She even told Mr Sullivan about it but at least he didn't fire me." Sharon glanced up at the camera, hoping someone would take note of it and arrange for Sullivan to be reinterviewed. If one of his employees was stalked by another, he was supposed to take measures. Why he hadn't was beyond her and she wanted to find out.

"And then Billy came along, too?" Sharon asked softly. She could sense that she was on to something but she could not get the thought of the impending dinner out of her mind. She wanted the smells of fresh pasta and garlic in her nose and the taste of a nice Chianti in her mouth while simply holding on to Andy's hand for a while. Like a normal date. Not their daily routine that involved severely distraught and potentially mentally unstable twenty-somethings that went all single white female on their best friend. The only other people she would be able to tolerate tonight would be a flirty Italian waiter who made Andy a bit jealous and Rusty for whom she would get take out for before she rejoined Flynn. She was a bit worried about what Rusty might think of what was happening between her and Andy. His comments always sounded light-hearted but she very well remembered her own son when he mistakenly thought she was hitting it off with a guy from work that was actually openly gay. He hadn't liked the thought of his mother in a relationship with a man he didn't know at all. Then again, Rusty did know Flynn well and she suspected that he had come to think of the whole squad as something like an adoptive family.

"She must have been like family to you," she said to Liza who nodded.

"It was like Billy was taking my family away from me all at once. She only ever spent time with me in the mornings when I brought coffee for the both of us. And that was always brief. I apologized to her so many times for the bathroom incident. I was in a bad place back then." She sniffled and threw a careful glance at Andy who still looked antagonistic towards her, to say the least.

What if Rusty for some reason didn't approve of Sharon and Andy? Would she call it off then? Deep down she knew that her responsibilities for her foster son couldn't be cast aside as easily as the rules she had always valued so much. She would not allow for Rusty to get hurt again or to feel abandoned even if it cost her her personal happiness. But maybe for Rusty, sharing her with someone else wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. Flynn might even be a good father figure to the boy. Heck, he already was and she had to stop thinking about what might happen. They hadn't even gone on their first date yet. Maybe they would realize that they bored each other to death away from work and then she wouldn't have to ponder Rusty's position anymore.

"How did you react when you found out that Billy and Anna were going to get married?" Flynn asked sharply and Sharon watched the girl's face fall in shock.

"They were what?!"

"Her journal states it quite clearly." Flynn was now reading from a battered-looking notebook that they had found on Provenza's desk, pretending that it was Anna's nonexistent diary. "She also says that she really wants rid of you and that she would move to Colorado with Billy to get away from you."

"No!" Liza rose from the chair with a start. Her hands were shaking so badly that Sharon fleetingly worried that she would have some kind of fit. Then a sound that sounded like a howl escaped the girls throat while she grabbed the edge of her chair and dug her fingers into it. The sickening sound of nails breaking against plastic made Sharon cringe slightly. Tears were now streaming down Liza's face, all control gone from her.

"Oh, how could they! How could they do this to me? I don't deserve this! She was my friend! I would have done anything for her!"

Her face was flushed and as red as her puffy eyes from which tears were streaming and mixing with snot on her cheeks and chin. It was quite obvious from her behavior that she was probably not sane enough to stand trial.

"And yet you killed her," Sharon said coldly. Liza froze mid-sentence and stared at the woman she had perceived as an ally and who now looked just as unforgiving as the man next to her.

"I couldn't take it! I couldn't stand seeing her with him every day! That bastard!"

She looked so fragile with her slender arms and small waist. How would she have been able to hold someone down in a bathtub? Someone who was thrashing and fighting for their life? Sharon remembered the toxicology report Tao had thrust at her when she had come in a half hour ago and crossed her arms.

"You put sedatives in her coffee, didn't you? Just like the one time back at school when she had a date with her classmate and you spiked her tea with xanax to keep her home?" she snarled dangerously.

"Fuck, yeah. I did!" Liza's grief and pain had very quickly turned into white hot rage. Sharon could feel Flynn tense next to her and hoped that he would refrain from acting like a gorilla protecting his family this time because even if Liza physically assaulted her, Sharon, who was a good few inches taller than the petite girl, would easily be able to stand her own. "And when she was dazed, I cut her hand with a razor blade and watched the life slowly drain out of her. It was best for her. A future with Billy would have ruined her. That ugly creep wasn't good enough for her!"

No one was good enough for her when it came to you, Sharon thought.

"Yet she screamed," Andy said. "We could hear it downstairs."

Liza shook her head. "I wouldn't know. I let her bleed and went back downstairs. Had a job to do."

Sharon felt agony welling up inside her. Anna had still been alive when they had entered the Haunted House. If only they had gone upstairs first, they would have been there for the last moment of consciousness and maybe they would have been able to save her. Instead, they had headed for the three doors downstairs and met Liza, the terrifying girl who was very much the victim of a demon inside her in real life. Liza fell back into her chair, the anger suddenly drained from her and began to silently cry. Sharon reached out and touched her hand. This girl had killed someone but Sharon knew instinctively that a psychiatric condition was responsible for it. This girl was condemned as it was and now she had ruined her whole life. Still, Sharon had to do her job.

"And then Billy came by your apartment to accuse you and you killed him, too. Didn't you?"

Liza looked up at Sharon with her large, wet eyes and nodded tearfully. "I didn't know what to do. I hated him so much and he threatened to rat me out to the police." She pressed her hand over her eyes and her shoulder were racked with more sobs. Sharon could hear Andy fumbling with his handcuffs but put a calming hand on his arm. They had their confession but somehow she didn't feel as elated as she usually did.

"You understand, don't you?" The girl gave Sharon a desperate stare. "Please say you understand. I am not evil!"

Sharon reached over and squeezed the girl's hand then shook her head. "Killing someone is never right, Liza. You need help and I will make sure that you will get the help you need."

* * *

"Murder one. Nothing says premeditation like drugging the victim before killing it," Provenza growled, watching Liza being led away by two uniformed cops. "Good work, Captain. You've had quite a Chief Johnson moment in there."

Sharon smiled weakly and crossed her arms in front of her chest for warmth. "I don't think she will be fit declared fit to stand trial."

"Yes, the girl is a nut," Provenza agreed.

"I was so sure that Mr Sullivan had something to do with it!" Flynn chimed in. He came to stand next to Sharon and looked down at her, their eyes meeting tiredly. The interview had been intense and neither of them felt in the mood to celebrate. There was so much evil in the world, but sometimes it just came down to mental illness that ate people up inside and made them ruin or take lives all around them. Provenza, however, didn't seem to be too bothered by it and hit Flynn's shoulder.

"Best bad cop attitude I've ever seen. Didn't think you had it in you, Andy." He cast a sidewards glance at Raydor. "I thought you would be bad cop."

Sharon rolled her eyes at him and turned away, glancing at the clock. It was half past five and the paperwork could wait until tomorrow. She would excuse herself, soon, to take a trip to the bathroom and freshen up her make-up and then she would subtly usher Flynn out to the car. She felt as excited as she had felt on her first date back in high school. Only this time, the football team's quarterback wouldn't try to undress her in the backseat of a car and make her run off in horror. And if Flynn tried such a thing, she would probably like it.

"Lieutenant Flynn-" she began but was interrupted by Buzz who came running down the hallway, one arm raised with urgency.

"Captain, there's something you might want to see!" he yelled, stopping in his tracks and beckoning her towards him. Sharon sighed inwardly. Her dinner plans would have to wait.

"Follow me, Lieutenants," she said and walked towards the monitor room.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Everyone who is familiar with BSG will get the reference, I hope. Also, I have been messing with Sharon's age. I know Mary McDonnell is much older but she could easily pass for ten years younger, in my opinion. That said, please enjoy! ;-)

**10**

"I thought you might want to see this, Captain." Buzz gestured towards a spread out array of printouts on the desk in the monitor room. "Tao found these. As you can see, he's currently in the interview room with Sullivan but he decided to hold back questions on this particular subject until he has your approval to ask them."

Sharon picked up one of the sheets of paper, narrowing her eyes to be able to decipher the small letters on what seemed to be a printout of a website. A small chuckle right next to her made her turn her head to discover Flynn's hand holding her glasses out for her. "You left them on the interview table," he explained quietly which made her smile at his attentiveness.

"Thank you," she said and slid the glasses on to her nose to study the printouts. After a moment she looked up at her co-workers, her mouth open with shock. "Is this what I think it is?"

"It's preposterous, isn't it?" Buzz asked, shaking his head. Flynn leaned slightly into Sharon in order to be able to study the prints more closely, his shoulder touching hers. Suddenly she felt so overwhelmed by the atrocities of human nature that a wave of exhaustion washed over her and made her long to simply lean her head on to Flynn's shoulder and close her eyes. In that very moment, his warmth calmed her despite the lust she felt for him.

"He used Anna's death as a PR strategy?" Flynn sounded incredulous, too, and she could see that the hand he was steadying himself on the table with was clenched into a fist by now. "He's practically advertising it!"

"Real blood has been spilled on to this bathroom floors. Is there actually a curse resting on this house? One that brings bloodshed and damnation? Can you feel evil and madness in the air?" Provenza read, his usual cockiness notably absent from his voice.

"I guess you two were right about his being guilty somehow, after all," Sharon said in a voice that sounded stilted even to herself. Anna had parents and – as she had learned today – two younger brothers who had adored her. Her death was hard on so many people who were now left with the hard task of grieving and of trying to put their shattered lives back together while this man had lost no time in using it to his own advantage. Sharon was sure that if the dead girl was hers, she would already be inside the interview room with her gun in her hand.

"Is there anything we could charge him for?" Provenza growled in a deep, dangerous voice.

"Not if we don't want ourselves to be wide open to a lawsuit," Sharon replied, making sure that he could hear the regret in her voice. The older man nodded at her, his teeth clenched. For once he was not second-guessing her or expressing his annoyance. The look they exchanged only proved that there was a lot of common ground between them right this moment. She straightened up and tugged at her blazer. "So, to summarize this: He didn't protect Anna from Liza when she felt threatened and used the killing to promote his enterprise. Does anyone else feel weird about this?"

"I do, Captain!" Provenza volunteered and came to stand next to her as if he was trying to show that he would back her up in whatever decision she was about to make. Despite herself, she felt like hugging him. Being smitten with Flynn was apparently affecting her more than she had expected it to.

"Sharon!" Flynn's voice suddenly sounded urgent and she whirled around to look at him, the only one who was still bent over the display on the table. He was pointing at the bottom lefthand corner of the sheet and she stood closer to him again. Buzz had flinched slightly at the usage of her first name but she did not care. She could tell that Andy was excited and she decided to let the little indiscretion slip this time. Despite herself, hearing him call her that sent a slight buzz of electricity through her as it sounded so intimate at work.

"Look! The page was last changed Saturday afternoon at 5 p.m."

"So?" Sharon asked, not quite sure what Andy was getting at. "That was pretty soon after-" She cut herself off. "He couldn't have done it himself! He was here at that time and he didn't have a laptop or phone on him!"

Provenza shrugged. "Someone else could have done it for him. The page looks pretty professional. It's probably being maintained by an agency."

Buzz stepped closer and peeked over Andy's shoulder. "Yeah, I know that one!" He pulled his laptop closer and typed an agency's name into google then checked its website. "Their contact data is listed on their website," he announced. Sharon stepped closer to the screen, took her phone out of her pocket and dialed the listed number. Her face, Andy noticed, had hardened and he suspected that Sullivan was not in a very desirable position right now. Sharon would crush him, he was sure of that. Apparently someone had answered, because she stepped out into the hallway to take the call, leaving the others by themselves.

"Do you think she is going out tonight?" Buzz asked, grinning confidentially. "She was quite adamant ten minutes ago that she needed to leave early today and the suit…" He trailed off and looked embarrassed as he usually kept out of male banter, especially when it concerned their boss. Provenza bared his teeth in a wicked grin and turned towards his partner.

"Would you know anything about that, Andy?"

Flynn cursed inwardly but shrugged. "Shouldn't we be concentrating on the case at hand? What this man did was incredibly insensitive. Let's not continue it by neglecting to take this seriously enough."

Provenza cocked his head slightly as if to say "nice try" but Buzz nodded solemnly and squared his shoulders. "Sorry. You're absolutely right."

There was a moment of uneasy silence that was broken by the sound of Sharon's heels in the hallway. A moment later, she appeared back in the room with a triumphant smile on her face.

"Tell Tao I'll come in."

* * *

Sharon was so impatient that she caught herself about to tap her foot when Tao stopped in front of her to hand her a half-full glass of the sparkling wine he had found in the break room fridge. She tried her hardest to make her smile look genuine when she accepted it and forced herself to remember the fact that only a few months ago, nobody in this room would have dreamed of celebrating a victory with her. The breaking out of liquor and the happy relaxed postures of the people around her meant that they had finally fully accepted her to the point where they wanted her to be part of their celebration. Unfortunately, it was getting late and all she wanted was to be part of her very own celebration. Her gaze wandered towards Andy who had accepted a glass of orange juice and was halfheartedly toasting Sykes with it. Provenza hit Tao on the back and a few drops of wine sprayed the file on his desk, causing Sharon to purse her lips slightly.

"Hey Captain!" Buzz had appeared next to her, an excited grin on his face. "What you did in there was genius. I daresay even Chief Johnson would be proud of you."

This time, she couldn't contain her smile and nodded at him. "Thank you, Buzz, but I guess I've merely been acting on instinct."

That much was true. After learning from the agency that Sullivan had called in with the desired changes to the website early Saturday morning, long before Anna had been killed, she had got a whiff of blood and had stormed into the interview room, profoundly lacking her usual calm. Once confronted with the piece of information and Sharon's vigor, Sullivan had soon given up pretending that he had nothing to do with it. His lawyer had finally talked him into a deal as it turned out that he had noticed Liza's behavior and had soon found out about her clinical obsession with her friend Anna. Instead of protecting Anna, he had fueled Liza's feelings and had finally managed to talk her into killing her. Of course, he had also instilled fear in her and had manipulated her into believing that it had been her very own idea. All that for more visitors, Sharon thought, sipping the slightly stale wine. Sullivan hadn't even looked slightly guilty or only embarrassed by what he had done. Also, his lawyer had had to explain to him in detail why what he had done was against the law. Sharon had thrown the terms "incitement" and "aiding and abetting" at him in a nasty voice that she did not recognize as her own.

Despite the fact that both the killer and her ruthless enabler were now behind bars and would stay there for the time being, Sharon felt drained. So many innocent people died for other people's greed or jealousy and she could do nothing to stop it. Her job was to clean up what had already happened, not prevent horrible things from happening or parents from losing their children. She remembered this morning when she had kissed Rusty goodbye for the first time. The little peck on the forehead was something she still used to show her own children that she loved them and despite the fact that they were now grown, they still indulged her when it came to the little gesture of affection. She wasn't sure why she suddenly felt the need to kiss Rusty goodbye, too, but it had just felt right. He was hers now, in some way, and she wanted to protect him as long and as well as she could. Was it really a good idea, she wondered, to start a relationship at this point when she and Rusty were just starting to get along and to really care for each other? Wouldn't Rusty think that she wasn't interested in him anymore as soon as he found out that she was seeing more of Andy Flynn? She didn't have much time for her foster son as it was.

"Good work, Captain Raydor." Provenza clicked his glass against hers and grinned. "I am glad that bastard is behind bars now. I can even live with the deal, you know. He would have probably made a big show of his trial."

"Probably." Sharon wasn't actually in the mood to talk since her concern for Rusty was weighing too heavily on her mind. On the other hand, she longed for that dinner with Flynn that seemed to become more unlikely to actually happen with every minute that was slipping past.

"Nice suit, by the way." She sighed inwardly. No innuendo now, please, and no Wicked Witch references, she prayed. "You're going out with Flynn right? I couldn't help but notice that he's wearing his one and only genuine silk tie today. He always saves it for very special occasions. Mostly funerals lately."

Sharon looked over at Andy who was coincidentally smoothing down his tie at that very moment. Provenza might be right. She had never seen it on Andy before. Provenza touched her elbow and gently steered her away from the others to talk to her without being overheard.

"There's no need to be ashamed. I only notice because I am Andy's best friend. And even your little ward approves." He chuckled at her surprised expression. "Don't tell me you didn't notice! The boy's been trying to set you two up for days! You know what?" He leaned in conspiratorially. "I called the baseball magazine I subscribe to. They didn't send any tickets for that Haunted House. And they only appeared in my inbox after Rusty came by the office after school." He gave her a knowing look. Sharon felt as if an avalanche of rocks was tumbling off her heart when Provenza said it so she allowed herself an unusually open smile. Provenza leaned in slightly.

"Don't break his heart, Captain Raydor." Despite his slightly threatening tone, he winked at her then suddenly addressed the rest of the team. "Okay, guys! Who feels like moving this to the bar next door?" Sykes smiled enthusiastically while Sanchez drained his glass and Tao nodded in approval.

"Sounds good! How about you, Captain Raydor?" Buzz asked, holding her coat out to her.

"Oh, well." She set her glass down and accepted the offered garment. "I should probaby get home to Rusty." Who had chess club until late and was staying with a friend afterward. Sharon didn't like to lie, courtesy of being too catholic for her own good, but did it anyway. Finally being able to have that date with Andy was definitely worth eternal damnation. Also, she had probably secured her cozy place in hell already by hitting it off with him in the first place, as she was technically still married.

"What about you, Lieutenant Flynn?" Buzz called out after shrugging regretfully.

"Do you want me to sit by and watch everyone get drunk? No thanks. I have some paperwork to finish up with."

"Bo-ring!" Provenza told him and shooed his fellow officers out, shepherding them into the waiting elevator. When its doors had closed and the buzzing sound of its descend could be heard, Sharon let out a deep sigh and gave Flynn a relieved smile. "Finally! I thought they'd never leave!" she said and walked towards him slowly. He grinned, stretching out his hand for her. When she took it, he pulled her in and wrapped his arm around her waist impulsively.

"I know we decided not to do this in the office but since there's no one here, can I kiss you?" he asked, his lips already hovering close to hers. Instead of answering, Sharon gave a quiet moan and closed the remaining distance between them to kiss him. His hands ran down her back and up again, now traveling down her sides to settle on both of her hips while he gently steered her towards one of the desks and pressed her against it. When they came apart, they were both a little breathless and Flynn grinned slightly. "We should get going. There are way too many desks around here."

Sharon felt a pang of arousal and therefore wholeheartedly agreed with his statement. Still, she feigned ignorance. "Why would you mind that particular type of furniture?" she asked in a mock naïve tone.

"You wouldn't be asking if you knew what I could do with you on a desk," Flynn explained, grabbing his jacket from his desk. "Now, come on. Our reservation has probably expired but I am a regular customer so they might be able to make a little room for two." Sharon giggled, then pressed her hands against her mouth in shock.

"What is it?" Flynn asked, slightly concerned by the look of disbelief on her face. She looked as if she had forgotten something important or maybe as if some sort of damning reality had just dawned on her. She dropped her hand and he watched her mouth twitch and her shoulders tremble slightly. "Sharon?"

Suddenly she burst out laughing, producing sounds that he never thought he would hear from her. "Oh my god," she whispered breathlessly. "I have this problem… When I have a date with someone that I would really like to impress, someone that I am quite passionate about, I- I get the giggles." She resumed her giggling and desperately tried to hide it by raising both of her hands to cover her face. "That's so embarrassing," she gasped. "but I really can't control it."

Flynn couldn't tell what made him happier: The sight of Sharon in a state of complete loss of control or the fact that she had just admitted that she wanted to impress him because she had feelings for him. But he could also see that the loss of composure embarrassed the usually always perfectly poised woman in front of him so he busied himself with switching the lights off and then offered his arm. "May I?" She took his arm and smiled up at him so that he was unable to resist and steal another kiss from her. He could feel her body vibrating with another fit of giggles.

"Sorry," she whispered against his mouth, her arm coming around his body to caress his back.

"Don't apologize," he told her. "I can honestly tell you that this only makes me fall for you more." She drew back to look at him and smiled, her cheeks flushed with the exertion of trying to keep her laughter in. She looked suddenly sobered and timidly turned her face away. Flynn could sense that she didn't believe him so he turned her chin back gently with two fingers. "You are exquisite, Sharon," he added in a very low voice that was meant to take a little of the momentum away from what he was telling her.

"Let's get down to the car," she said, smiling with endearment.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the elevator doors opened again, revealing Sharon and Andy who looked as if someone had emptied a bucket of water over their heads, their shoulders sagging and their expressions sheepish. Flynn exited the elevator and threw his hands in the air.

"I am sorry, Sharon. I am so sorry. You were right! We should have taken your car this morning."

Sharon looked up at him, her lower lip protruding slightly as if she was pouting. "Who knew that your car would choose this moment of all available moments to finally take its last breath? It's not your fault, Andy."

He shook his head. "Maybe not. But maybe I should have better insurance. One that doesn't take an hour to bring round a rental!"

She sat down on Provenza's desk and crossed her legs which made her skirt ride up in the process. "It is not your fault, Andy," she repeated, opening her arms for him. "I would immediately invite you to come here and make every kinky office fantasy come true right here on your partner's desk if I wasn't that damn hungry." She gave a little laugh and wrapped her arms around him as soon as he reached her only seconds later. Her hair tickled his neck when she pressed her cheek into his shirt and sighed comfortably. He reached down to caress her back then let go of her reluctantly.

"Can you sit tight for a moment? There's something I need to do." She looked a little startled but grinned when he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

"It's not as if I had anything better to do," she said, clasping her hands over her knee. "Just go and leave me all by myself."

Andy walked off and Sharon remained in her very position, craning her neck and then tilting her head back to look at the ceiling and relieve the tension in her shoulders. It had been a long day and for a second she had been tempted to start yelling at Andy's damn car when in a truly horrifying moment the engine had given a splattering sound. A tremor had seized the car before it had fallen silent, refusing to give any sign of life. Sharon groaned slightly when she felt her muscles relax. Now they were doomed to be hanging around the office when they should already be sitting at a nice table in a restaurant with good food and shameless flirting. She didn't feel comfortable exploring whatever it was about to be she was having with Andy at the office where every sight and every smell reminded her of the multitude of rules she was breaking. She had somehow arranged herself with doing it, but she didn't want to do it surrounded by reminders of her misgivings. Andy's voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she turned towards him, studying him while he remained in the doorway. He beckoned her closer and so she hopped off the table and followed him down the hallway. He stood inside the door to the break room and held it open for her, then made her laugh by securing it with a chair before going inside himself.

Sharon gasped at the display inside. Flynn had set up one of the tables with two sandwiches from the vending machines and the rest of the sparkling wine they had cracked open earlier for her. Somehow, he had even managed to find a couple of tea candles that were idly flickering in the middle of the plastic table while the rest of the room was in relative darkness. She turned around and gave him a wide smile.

"I know it's kind of a letdown compared to a restaurant. Especially the food, but I wanted this to be as special as it could be." Flynn grinned, amusement written all over his face. Sharon hated cheesiness with her very essence, but the humorous way he went about presenting the set up to her took the edge of it. Still, she crossed her arms and raised her chin in mock defiance.

"What kind of sandwich did you get me?" she asked him with a challenging tone in her voice.

"Turkey, Ma'am," he answered.

She nodded in approval.

Both laughed when he pulled the chair out for her and only when she sat down she realized that he had chosen the table they had been sitting at only days ago when they had nearly kissed. So much had happened since then and Sharon felt a little dizzy with the quick pace it was all developing in. Still, everything felt right and so did she. She felt better than she had in a very long time. Young, full of energy and giggly – goddamn, she felt giggly to the point where it made her uneasy. They ate her sandwiches and when she had finished hers, she looked at him over the rim of her wine glass then set it down with a smile.

"I debated shooting Sykes in the head for interrupting us the other day," she confided in Flynn which ignited a wide grin on his face.

"Yeah. Me, too."

She reached over the table and squeezed his hand. "I wanted to kiss you so badly. I only ever noticed how much when the moment was already over."

"Believe me, I know how it feels," he said. "I've been wanting to kiss you for a while. I think ever since after the autopsy back when we were working our first case with you as head of Major Crimes. I gave you hell just to convince myself that I didn't like you and you just took it and moved the investigation forward with that brilliant observation of yours. I was so in awe that I wanted to sweep you off your feet right then."

She laughed. "Thank god you didn't. Apparently, I needed Rusty to set us up in order to realize that I want you."

He furrowed his brow. "Rusty? What does Rusty have to do with it?"

"Apparently, he was the one to send the Haunted House tickets to Provenza. You didn't, by any chance, tell him about your soft spot for horror movies?"

A look of enlightenment dawned on Flynn's face. "I'll be damned, I did!"

She chuckled and leaned back in her chair, the glass still in hand. "I have yet to talk to him about it but I think he very much wants the two of us to be together."

Flynn leaned over the table and reached out for her hand. "He and I are in agreement, then."

"I think we all are." She leaned in, too and kissed his lips, enjoying their easy closeness and the taste of him.

"It's amazing what you've done with that boy. He used to be such a mess and now he is an A-student and cares about other people's love lives."

Sharon gave him a tender smile that hinted at how much Rusty had come to mean to her. "I don't think it's all my doing, Andy. He's an amazing kid. All he needs is someone who can give him a stable environment and all the love he needs."

"You do love him, don't you, Sharon?" Andy asked.

Sharon averted her eyes and gave an uneasy little smile. "Of course I do," she said quietly. "It's a little scary how much. I mean, I didn't carry him inside me and I didn't watch him grow up but he feels as if he was mine."

"Are you going to take the next step then?" Andy asked carefully. She looked up, puzzled

"The next step?"

"Are you going to start adoption procedures?"

There was a momentary silence then she nodded slowly. "I would have to talk to him about it first," Sharon said evasively. "I mean," she gave an embarrassed laugh. "I would really like it, but I don't know whether he-"

"Sharon," Andy said earnestly. "You know he would."

She shook her head, her emotions showing clearly on her face. "You know, I think about what will become of him one day. What kind of job he will choose, whether he is going to find someone he loves, whether he is going to have children and I fancy myself a part of it. And then I remind myself of the fact that foster care is temporary and that he has been to so many places. Why would I be special to him?"

Flynn smiled at her obvious confusion. "Because you are special. And because you love him. I've seen you together this weekend, remember? I can tell he feels safe with you."

Sharon got up and walked around the table to stand in front of Andy. "And I feel safe with you," she said quietly.

"I would always barge into an interview room and beat up anyone who dared lay a finger on you," Andy joked in allusion to his earlier loss of control. Sharon tilted her head and smiled openly, revealing her line of perfect teeth. She rarely smiled that openly, Flynn thought.

"You were completely out of control and I liked it," she said.

"You did a very good job of not making me notice that," he replied, slightly stung and got up himself to level with her. Sharon looked up at him and stepped closer, her arms around his waist.

"I didn't mean that, by the way, when I said that I felt safe with you," she murmured into his chest while they were holding each other in a tight embrace. "I meant that I trust you. I know you won't hurt me." Flynn hugged her more tightly in response until she stepped back and grabbed his hand.

"One thing is still bothering me, though. Where did you get those candles?"

He laughed out loud. "Left over from Chief Johnson's birthday last year. Provenza thought it wise to remove a few to make her believe we thought she was much younger than she actually is."

"Very smart," Sharon grinned. "I bet she could see right through you. And also," she intertwined her fingers with his. "I will be forty-nine next month. Would you be a doll and make the others believe it was still forty-five?"

"Absolutely." He leaned in to kiss her again when his phone rang. "I swear to god if this has anything to do with a case, I am going to throw the phone out of the window and pretend it never rang," he huffed to which she giggled. Again. Flynn was pretty sure that he would easily get used to the sound.

Fortunately, he was not forced to follow through on his announcement as the person calling was a slightly bored-sounding insurance agent who told him that his rental car was about to be delivered. He hung up, relieved.

"We can finally leave this place," he said, already halfway on his way to the elevator.

Her face lit up with another smile and she reached her hand out for his to hold while they walked.

"Did I mention that Rusty is staying with a friend tonight?" She purred into his ear. Flynn turned around and nodded solemnly.

"He is a good kid," he said in a lofty voice then bent down to kiss her again, hungrier and more passionately this time. She moaned into his mouth and pulled him closer to her. After a moment, she stepped back with vigor, glaring up at him.

"Don't get me wrong," she said in a voice that sounded far too soft and playful for the words it delivered. "There will be rules for our conduct in the office from now on."

"Rules for an office affair?" Andy asked. "So you mean you are planning on setting up rules for breaking the rules?"

She tilted her hand as if she was pondering his statement, then nodded. "Exactly, but we can work them out later."

He grinned back, marveling at how sexy her playfulness was. "Will we be naked?"

She pressed her lips together in resolve and nodded. "I sure hope so, Lieutenant Flynn."

"If you dare pull rank on me in bed, I will steal the covers."

She laughed so hard at his joke that she doubled over slightly and he squeezed her hand to pull her into the direction of the elevator.

"There would be consequences. Dire consequences," she warned to which he shrugged and pulled her in again.

"Consequences, schmonsequences," he murmured against her collar bone, causing her to give a little sigh. "Now let's get downstairs and take that rental or I swear it'll kill me."

She followed him into the elevator and stood close to him then furrowed her brow at his expression. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking about what you said about Rusty. You know, when you were wondering what he would one day turn out to be?"

"Yes?" she said cautiously, apparently slightly taken aback by his sudden change of topic. He turned his head and looked down at her, unable to hide the smitten expression on his face. The thought that he probably looked like a lovesick fool crossed his mind only fleetingly.

"I just thought of something."

She raised her brows and chin. "So?"

He raised his hand and ran it from left to right to indicate a business plate. "How does that sound? Rusty Beck – Marriage Broker."

The elevator doors closed, drowning her giggles.

**The End**

As I said before, there will be a sequel which will be a bit longer, a bit darker and here soon – I hope. Thank you for sticking with my story until the end. I loved your support and your reviews and your enthusiasm. Once again: What a great fandom! ;-)


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